


Auguries of Innocence

by the_rck



Series: Possibly Permanently Incomplete. Possibly Not. [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark Fred and George Weasley, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Dark Ron Weasley, Dark Trio, Discussion of Pregnancy, F/M, M/M, Multi, Non-human Luna Lovegood, Politics, Rebuilding, Seer Draco, Unreliable Narrator, Woobie Draco, after the war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:16:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/pseuds/the_rck
Summary: Granger sighed and leaned her head on Weasley's shoulder. "The ritual was horrible. I can't imagine-- Well, Icanor it wouldn't bother me." She shot a glance at Draco. "Not that he-- Well, it could be worse. It could have happened to someone who didn't deserve it."Draco felt tears in his eyes. "That's true." He pulled his knees up against his chest. "I shouldn't have done it. I almost didn't. I wasn't supposed to. That was the best might-be right then."Granger stared at him."Dumbledore would have lived?" Weasley asked."No." Draco shook his head. "He was doomed that year in almost all the good might-bes. I just shouldn't have killed him. If I hadn't, Potter would have had a few more months with him. Professor Snape would have killed him. He'd promised two ways, you see. Dumbledore and my mother both." He lowered his cheek to his knees. "That might-be was better. Potter'd be married by now. I'd be in Italy. I'd like to be in Italy..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a snippet from William Blake.
> 
> The summary indicates the divergence point in terms of events, but the true divergence here is that Lucius Malfoy was a rather different person, one who raised a son who could kill and one who was willing to sacrifice that son later on.
> 
> I haven't decided what happened with the Horcruxes or if they were even a thing in this universe. If they were, Dumbledore never had a chance to tell Harry about them. Voldemort, at this point, is well and truly dead. The problems coming up have nothing whatsoever to do with him surviving.
> 
> There will be occasional content warnings at the beginnings of chapters.
> 
> For this chapter, there's some nasty sexual violence in the last section of the chapter. Most of it is elided, but a little bit is explicit. There are also a lot of references throughout the chapter (and the rest of the story) to past abuse that Draco suffered during the War.

Draco thought that the bed was a good sign. The sheets didn't abrade his skin, and they smelled clean without the taint of cheap soap or perfume. _I do smell potions, though, so it's not just a cell with a nice bed. Infirmary or hospital._ He didn't see light through his eyelids, so he risked opening them. _After so long in the dark, bright lights would hurt._ Lifting his head to look around seemed like too much work, so he turned his head a little, catching a glimpse of house elf.

The elf's eyes met his, and it squeaked. "Must stay!" It waved a hand.

He felt the sheets tighten over his body. "Not going anywhere," he said. "Much nicer than a cell." He forced his body to relax. _There's nothing I can do now. I don't know which possibilities are real here. I don't know which Potter won._ Overlapping images of what could be stretched out in his mind, pressing him into a small corner of his consciousness. He licked his lips. "Do you... Do you have a potion for me?" _Please. Going mad right now would make a very bad impression._ He pushed against the possibilities, digging in his heels, feeling his fingernails shatter. _Narrow it down. That always helps. A little._ "Is my mother alive? Or Professor Snape?" _Or any one of dozens of others._

"Your mother is. Your father is. Your brother and sister are. We're not sure about Professor Snape, yet." He hadn't heard Granger's voice in years, but her intonation remained distinctive.

_So my siblings are real here. Good. I wanted them to be._ Draco dug his fingers into the sheet beneath him. "He said he wasn't going to chance your... mercy." He bit his lip and used that to focus himself. "Do you have-- He should have left instructions about a potion for me. Please?"

"There is a potion," she said after a moment.

_She didn't expect the 'please.' Should I remember that? No. It won't take them long to know I've no pride left. Even if this is one of the bad possibilities, hiding that wouldn't help._

"We're simply not sure what it does." He could hear the frown in her voice.

"I can tell you. I will. Just... Please." _How long has it been?_ The realities in his head fractured again. He opened his eyes hoping that physical sight might help ground him. Granger looked taller than he remembered. He wasn't sure if it was the angle, his helplessness or fact. _She wasn't quite seventeen, so she could have--_ He pressed his heels hard into the mattress.

Granger's eyes narrowed. She tapped her wand against her arm. "Vesky, get the potion."

"Yes, Miss." The house elf apparated away.

Granger walked closer to Draco's bed and tapped her wand on the blanket. "You're a problem, Malfoy. A difficulty."

_Yes. Yes. I know that monologue. Just give me the bloody potion!_ Draco kept his eyes on her wand and tried not to wonder, tried not to think. _Hold my space. Just a few minutes._

"Chained, naked in a cell. Emaciated. Filthy. Bruised. Unconscious with three potions and copious notes from Snape." She sneered the name. "And with your father unconscious in the doorway, his wand snapped."

Remembering the past was less dangerous than considering the future. _I have a better idea which past is true. Mostly._ He cleared his throat. "He wanted to kill me. My father, I mean. Professor Snape stopped him." Draco closed his eyes. "He offered to take me with him, but you'd have caught us both." _And if what you'll do to me is bad, what you'd do to him is... less deserved._

Granger muttered a diagnostic spell. "You're in a lot of pain."

_No, really?_ He looked at her chin. "Got used to it." _It could have been so much better. If I hadn't-- No._ He stopped the possibilities just as they started to crest his chin. _I won't drown. I've been through this before. Worse than this._

"How long were you in that cell?"

_How long--?_ Different possibilities threatened to bury him, raining down like millions of slips of paper from above.

Pop! The house elf returned, clutching a vial. It handed the vial to Granger.

Granger held it up so that Draco could see it clearly. "It seems to me that you'll be more amenable to answering questions if you can see this."

Draco ground his teeth. He shuddered. "In a few minutes," he forced his voice to coherence, putting everything he had into sounding sane, "I won't see anything outside my own head. I won't hear what you say or feel what you do to me. If you give me the potion then, it'll take at least three weeks and sixteen doses to bring me out." He couldn't breathe as he strained to keep a little of his mind clear. "Please, Granger. Hate me. Hurt me. Just leave me my mind." He wasn't sure if the last words were even comprehensible. He didn't have the air to make them more than a whisper.

Granger uncapped the potion, hesitated, then poured a few drops into Draco's mouth. She stopped when he choked then poured more as he swallowed, until all of it was gone. She recapped the empty vial and handed it to the house elf. "I expect answers. Now."

Draco coughed. His joints ached. _I want to sleep again._ He looked at the foot of the bed. "Yes." The word sounded listless to his own ears. He took a deep breath. "I'm not sure how long I was in there." _Is there an anchor? I can't remember. And I'm not sure what's true._

The house elf positioned a chair for Granger who sat with a sigh. "A rough estimate would be acceptable."

"Do I have a sister?" Suddenly he wasn't sure. _She said siblings, right? A sister and then a brother is what I remember._

She frowned.

He wasn't quite ready to let her form those questions. "About two weeks after she was born. That's when they caught me. It wasn't that cell to begin with," he added, wanting to be honest about it. "I'm not sure how many times they moved me. Does it matter?" He hated the note of anxious pleading in his own voice. _In a better world, I wouldn't have to grovel to her. Or to Potter or to... anyone at all, really._

_I need to know which possibilities are real, to collapse them._ "Is my mother alive?" _Or did I ask that already?_

"Your mother is alive, Malfoy." Granger sounded patient. "You worry about your family, don't you?"

He snorted. "Not about my father. I wish there was a possibility he wasn't." He coughed again. "Please, might I have some water? Are both Weasley twins alive? If they are, then giving him to them is a good idea. If only one's left, don't do it. You'll have to kill both of them." He blinked. "That would be unpleasant, right?"

The house elf offered him water, lifting his head so that he could sip.

Granger stared at him.

"That's why he wanted to kill me. I see possibilities. Could-bes, probablies, might-have-beens. Most of them are better than this. Some are worse. Much, much worse." He knew he had to convince her. "I'm not a wizard any more, Granger." He closed his eyes. "I'm an artifact, a channel, a-- I don't know what." He sighed. "Useful, though. To everybody else, at least." _Let me sleep, please._ He didn't even bother asking that of her, not out loud.

Granger laughed harshly. "Ridiculous."

Draco echoed her laugh softly. "No. That's the Dark...bastard." If his mouth hadn't felt so dry, he'd have spat. "And my father buying favor with his son's body." _And mind. Mind first and then body._ He touched the possibilities, feeling the texture of each of the strong ones. _And here, body first then mind. Probably._ "We kept notes about the ritual, Snape and I. I can tell you where to find them." _I think. Is there more than one hiding place? Right. That's it._ "My sister's name. There's a box in the Muggle bank at the town with her name. Any of you-- you, Potter or Weasley-- can open it." He coughed. "Potion notes there, too. At least, he promised me that."

Granger stood. "I'll look." She focused her attention on the house elf, issuing instructions for Draco's care. Then she turned back to Draco. "I don't think you can walk yet, Malfoy, but there's no reason for you to bother. The door's spelled. The elves can get in and out. I can get in and out. Your doctor can get in and out. Nobody else." She leaned down close enough that he could smell her. "Harry and Ron wanted me to talk to you first. They were afraid they'd kill you too soon." She smiled in a way that offered no reassurance. "My control is better."

Draco flinched. He bit his tongue before he could say anything in response. _No! I won't beg. I won't try to appease her._ He swallowed hard. _She won't believe it yet._

*********

By the time Granger came back, Draco was almost desperate to see her. The house elf, Vesky-- who had insisted that he learn her name in order to get service-- refused to tell him anything, and the doctor, a woman he thought he recognized as a Hufflepuff a year or two older than he, simply gave him orders. "Eat this, Mr. Malfoy." "Bend your leg, Mr. Malfoy." "Try one more step, Mr. Malfoy." "Don't argue with Vesky, Mr. Malfoy."

Granger paused, just inside the doorway, and flicked her wand sideways as if using it to lift a curtain aside. A redhead who could only be Weasley ducked through after her. "You--" Granger pointed her wand at Weasley. "--stand over there-- or sit. I don't care. Just stay out of the way and shut up."

Weasley nodded and leaned against a wall.

Draco fidgeted, trying to discreetly make sure that the blankets covered the lower half of his body and that he could lean back against the pillow without hitting the wall. _Forget wishing for clothes and be grateful for blankets and pillows. The Dark Bastard never bothered with either._

Vesky appeared out of nowhere with a chair for Granger then saw Weasley and rushed to provide him with a seat as well.

Draco kept his eyes fixed on Granger. "You found the box." He couldn't make it a question. _They won't hurt me today. Not likely. Not after putting so much effort into feeding me and healing me. Probably._

"We found it." Granger leaned back in her chair and studied Draco. "It seems a singularly stupid method of trying to see the future. Especially given that you shouldn't have lasted a year after the ritual. And I doubt you consented."

"I didn't have to consent," Draco replied. "My father consented. The ritual was satisfied with that." He looked at the mounds his feet made under the blanket.

"It took me four days to read all of Snape's documentation on you. I'm not sure I believe any of it."

He heard a clink as she set something down on the table next to his bed. He didn't look. "Do you think he'd bother with a hoax that elaborate? He had enough to worry about."

"Drink this." She took his hand and guided it to the bottle she'd set on the table. Once he was touching the bottle, she released his hand.

Draco lifted the bottle. Weasley tensed. Draco looked directly at Weasley, holding his eyes as he uncorked the bottle and drank. The potion burned through him, feeling as if his skin were splitting and peeling and his blood vessels trying to escape and strangle him. He dropped the bottle on the bed and managed to set his teeth to avoid biting himself. After a few seconds, the pain ceased.

"Why did you drink that?" Weasley asked.

Draco looked at Granger. "You know, don't you?" She had a small smile on her face that led him to think that she did. He looked at Weasley. "I had no choice. I simply did her the courtesy of not pretending. She's neither kind enough nor inexperienced enough to let me get away with not drinking." He sighed and moved the empty bottle back to the table. "I'm not inexperienced either. I've had practice." He blinked. "What was that? Veritaserum doesn't feel like this."

"According to Snape's notes, Veritaserum doesn't work on you." Granger removed the bottle from the table.

"Not very well, no." Draco smiled, feeling a little proud of himself. "Damned hard to lie to Voldemort if it worked, so we found a way around that."

"We?" Granger's question was gentle.

"Professor Snape and I." Draco sighed. _She should know that._ "Voldemort didn't like looking at the possibilities. He lost in too many. Or didn't even exist to begin with. He had other people look in my head. Over and over and over. Professor Snape had the best luck, could get the most sense." He giggled. "Because we lied. Over and over. When we could. Had to make him keep thinking he was going to win or he'd kill us and then he would win. Bad, bad things." He shook his head. "And Professor Snape made the potion so I didn't die. Very efficient. Don't want to die."

"So you lied to Voldemort."

Draco nodded. "Aimed for the best outcome we could." He studied his feet again. "I couldn't always tell where we were."

Weasley stirred. "What's your sister's name, Malfoy?"

"Ron--"

Weasley held up a hand, interrupting Granger. "What's her name?"

"Do I have a sister? That's good." Draco smiled. "Is it Amaranth? Or is it Purity? Or Cassiopia? No, it wouldn't be Cassiopia. That's one of the might-have-beens. Voldemort called me Cassandra when I started seeing might-have-beens. Mother wouldn't have used anything close to that..." He had the vague sense that the timing was wrong. "Oh-- Except mother named her before that happened." He gave Weasley a hopeful smile. "I can't quite answer that one. You don't mind, do you?"

Granger sniffed, sounding halfway between thoughtful and disapproving. "Is your mother alive?"

Draco hesitated. There was something tricky about the question, but he couldn't remember what. "I _think_ so. Most of the possibilities where she's dead aren't nearly as nice as this one. I usually don't get a blanket."

Weasley appeared to find the wall to his left fascinating.

"Have you lied to us at all?" Granger touched Draco's hand to pull his attention back to her.

"No?" Draco considered. "I don't remember what I said. I'm not supposed to lie to you. Just not say some things if I think this is a bad actually-is. I don't want to die, but sometimes I don't want to live more. Are you going to kill me?"

"I don't expect so." Granger smiled at him. "We don't usually do that." She cleared her throat. "Can you tell us about what--" She seemed to half-choke over the word. "--might be?"

Draco smiled back at her. "Sure. Can I have some water?"

"Of course." Granger waved a hand, and Vesky brought Draco water. "What's going to happen?"

"Too open, Hermione," Weasley said.

Draco frowned. _It really is._ "Well... The possibilities from this moment depend on which possibility this moment already is. I don't know that, and I... get lost sometimes. Professor Snape's potion helps that, too. We didn't tell anyone that part," he confided. "We didn't want them to be able to use me."

"How do you know which possibility this moment is?" Granger sounded a little frustrated.

"Well, I have to know what makes this moment itself. Who's alive. Who's not. Everything I can. And I have to remember it. It was easier with Professor Snape. He remembered, and he reminded me. The Death Eaters told me lots, too." Draco nodded firmly. "Made things easier for Professor Snape to spy on them, me knowing everything did." He looked from Granger to Weasley and back again, remembering a grievance. "And you didn't always believe him."

"I'm sure that was unfair of us," Granger said.

_She looks tired. Oh._ The possibilities suggested something. "You haven't slept," Draco told her. "You need to do that. It's hard to think when you're tired."

Weasley snickered. "He's got you there, Hermione." He stood up and stretched. "Go on and rest. I think I've got more patience for this one than you do. I managed Divination, after all." He crossed the room and took her into his arms. "I won't kill him, I promise. I don't think I could. Vesky can let me out."

Granger sighed and leaned her head on Weasley's shoulder. "The ritual was horrible. I can't imagine-- Well, I _can_ or it wouldn't bother me." She shot a glance at Draco. "Not that he-- Well, it could be worse. It could have happened to someone who didn't deserve it."

Draco felt tears in his eyes. "That's true." He pulled his knees up against his chest. "I shouldn't have done it. I almost didn't. I wasn't supposed to. That was the best might-be right then."

Granger stared at him.

"Dumbledore would have lived?" Weasley asked.

"No." Draco shook his head. "He was doomed that year in almost all the good might-bes. I just shouldn't have killed him. If I hadn't, Potter would have had a few more months with him. Professor Snape would have killed him. He'd promised two ways, you see. Dumbledore and my mother both." He lowered his cheek to his knees. "That might-be was better. Potter'd be married by now. I'd be in Italy. I'd like to be in Italy..."

Weasley's face went stiff, and Granger tightened her arms around him. "Don't, Ron. Please."

For a moment, fear penetrated Draco's grief. He flinched then inched towards the far side of the bed, trying to get as far from Weasley as possible. "We tried. We did. The might-bes were all better with your sister and your parents there." He swallowed hard. "It's... It's that thing with butterflies. I don't see things until they're big enough or close enough, so I can't--"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Weasley sounded more tired than angry. He let go of Granger and turned her chair backwards before sitting on it. "I've got it, Hermione. It's... like chess, really. I know which pieces we still have, so I'll tell him."

Draco waited until Granger had left to speak again. "You're going to hurt me," he said.

"No, I'm not." Weasley hunched his shoulders then shook them out.

"Oh, not right now. You promised Granger. Thank you for that." Draco sighed. "Later. It's in the might-bes. You're going to hurt me. Unless Potter wants to do all of it. Do you think he will?"

Weasley shook his head. "Listen, will it help you remember if we write down who's alive and who's dead?"

Draco smiled. "Oh, yes. That will help. It's so hard not remembering for sure about my mother."

****** 

Draco dealt out the cards, making a triangle of increasing width. He stopped to look at the directions in the book. _Remove the cards in pairs that add up to thirteen. Take kings off as they come up. Sounds easy._

"Muggle solitaire, Malfoy?" Granger's voice came from the doorway.

Draco looked up and shrugged. "I can't do anything harmful with them."

"I'm simply surprised to see you touching something Muggle."

"I lived as one for a few months." He turned over the top card. "I wasn't very good at it."

"Is that where you'd go now, if you could get away?" She sounded genuinely curious.

Draco glanced at her, looking away again quickly. "I can't brew the potion," he said softly. _I'm trapped._ "Either I'd be hidden and utterly insane or you'd just catch me again." _Both are worse than what's probably coming next._ He picked up a seven and a six, moving them to the discard pile. "When will you be moving me?" _Today? Tomorrow? The day after?_ The possibilities didn't change much no matter when it happened.

She shrugged. "Soon. We have a room ready for you. It depends on when Helen releases you."

He swept up the card game, not caring that he wasn't done. "She doesn't want me here. She doesn't approve of me, and she's afraid you're going to do something to me that..." He shrugged. _Saying that she's afraid you'll torture me in her hospital is practically an invitation._ "I'd rather not wait if that matters. I know it's coming." He squared the deck of cards and set it down next to the book of solitaire games. _Please tell me I'm wrong. It's not likely, but--_

"Harry's looking forward to spending time with you."

He folded his hands to hide the tremor. "And you? Are you looking forward to fucking me? Or is Potter not going to share?"

She met his eyes. Her tongue flicked out over her lips. "I'm looking forward to watching Ron fuck you." She smiled.

His hands clenched on each other. _No matter what they do, I've been through worse. Death Eaters are--_ were _\-- creative sadists._ "At least you feed me." He tried to say it lightly, but he didn't think he'd succeeded. _And she knows or at least guesses a lot of what they did._ He didn't have to look to know that several possibilities led to a very personal hell for him.

She touched his face. "We won't let Harry kill you. He just blames you for so much."

_Even though I was chained in a cell for most of it._ He allowed himself to lean into her hand for just a moment, wanting a touch that wasn't either hostile or impersonal. "So I deserve to be punished," he said flatly. _I made one choice that led here. They made how many?_

She pulled her hand back. "Better Harry has one scapegoat."

"I know..." He barely whispered the words, but she heard them anyway.

"You saw this coming. Why are you here?"

_Why am I not dead, you mean?_ He let the bitterness show on his face. "My brother's going to look like me, you know. A lot like me. Too much."

She gasped as she understood. "We wouldn't let him!"

_Good to know you have some limits left._ He scowled at her. "In another twelve or fourteen years, would you draw the line or would you sacrifice 'one scapegoat' to keeping Potter happy?" He half expected her to hit him and braced himself for it. He needed to know if she would admit the possibility.

She turned her back on him. "If we did that, we'd be them. Not being them is the whole point."

He laughed. "You aren't them. You won't be. Even in your worst possibilities, you're better than them." _Not much, not at your worst. Not better for me. Not worse for me but still not better. For everyone else..._ "I'm paying for what I did do and buying hope for my family."

She looked at him, really looked, and he could see a dawning horror on her face.

"Don't you dare pity me!" he snarled. "I made choices, and I made mistakes, and I am _not_ helpless." _Don't pity me. That only goes badly._ He took a firm grip on the possibilities and forced his mind to calmness. "Granger," he said gently, "this is going to happen. The might-bes that don't go there are vanishingly unlikely and depend on things that haven't happened to make them work. The greatest kindness you can do me is not to feel guilty about it." _If you feel guilty, you'll hurt me. If you feel guilty, all three of you will blame me for that. You'll make it my fault and punish me for it._ "Be kind to me sometimes. Make sure I have my potion. Just don't ever think that I don't deserve whatever the three of you do to me." He considered the might-have-beens and pulled one out. "If our positions were reversed-- That happened in more than one might-have-been--" He made himself smile. "I'd have taken you and fucked you without a second thought. You're just a mudblood, after all."

This time, she did hit him. He'd expected it and let it throw him off the other side of the bed. _That's going to bruise like hell._ He didn't try to climb back up, just waited to see what else she'd do.

She came around the end of the bed and glared down at him. "So you'd have liked having me as your slave?" Her hands were in fists, resting on her hips.

He met her glare. "You weren't the subject of any fantasies of mine, Granger. In those worlds, I'd mostly pick you because you were unlikely to bear squibs."

She looked appalled. "Get off the floor, Malfoy."

He stood slowly. He kept his hands at his sides and his eyes averted.

After a long pause, Granger said, "Have you even _met_ your sister and brother, Malfoy?"

The question was quiet enough that Draco thought he might get away with pretending that he hadn't heard it. Instead, he shrugged. _How did she get to that from-- Never mind. It doesn't matter._

"Three weeks ago, you couldn't reliably remember their names. You couldn't remember for sure if they existed."

He looked at the floor. "It's better for them if I don't, isn't it?"

Granger made a huffing sound of frustration. "I'll be back in an hour or two. We'll move you to your new quarters tonight. I'm sure Harry will have time for you tomorrow." She walked out without looking back.

***********

"The door wards will admit me or Ron or Harry. Nobody else will even see the doorway," Granger said as she parted the wards to let Draco in. "The elves can get in, too, of course. They'll answer reasonable requests."

Draco staggered as he stepped through the doorway, falling to his knees just inside. He covered his eyes. It didn't help because the spiraling images were inside his head. He felt icy stone beneath his knees and at the same time the cushion of a thick carpet. He smelled mold and cedar, blood and smoke. He saw tapestries and chains tangling together as each tried to be the only wall decoration. He whimpered and very deliberately bit his tongue. The pain gave him an anchor, a point present in all the true possibilities.

Granger touched his head, giving him another certainty. "Malfoy?"

_She almost sounds like she cares. Of course she cares. I'm useful. Weasley's damned pleased with me._ He grabbed those notions and pushed away all the possibilities that didn't include them. He sobbed with relief as the carpet stayed beneath his knees and the hard stone faded. _And it's even warm._ "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry." He groped for an explanation that wouldn't make her angry. "Some spells... There's an interaction sometimes." _I'm not giving her ideas about what they could make me endure._

"Ah." She only sounded half convinced.

He crawled a little distance away from her, wanting to be able to see her. He also took the opportunity to look around the room. Some pieces of furniture didn't quite look like they were there. _Are they coming or going?_ He blinked several times as he tried to figure it out. _At least they can't talk to me._

"Well, you won't be going through the wards very often," Granger said briskly. She crossed the room to adjust a lamp.

_That one's real._ Draco pressed that fact into his memory, ignoring the other lamps that wanted him to believe that Granger had already touched them.

"The bath is through there." She pointed, and he nodded to show he understood. "Vesky should already have put your things in here. Somewhere."

_My cards and the book. Not like I have anything else._ He didn't look to see if he could spot them.

"Treat orders from the elves as if they come from us. Vesky will be the one to bring you potions."

Draco nodded again. _There's not much I can say._ He wished desperately to be in the hospital bed again. _I knew what there was. There weren't any surprises and almost no pain._ He cleared his throat. "What will Potter--" He shrugged. _The question's too big._

"Don't call him 'Potter.' He won't like it." There was a definite warning in Granger's voice. She pursed her lips, considering. "Call him 'master.' We're still working out official titles, and I doubt they'd be...appropriate."

_The last person I called 'master' was Voldemort. Potter may not like the word from me. Or maybe he will._ Until he saw Potter and sorted through the might-bes, he couldn't be sure.

"When Harry comes in... Yes. Get yourself on the floor, on your knees. That may not please him, but it won't displease him. I don't know what Ron wants. He'll tell you, I suppose. I don't care if you kneel when I come in as long as you obey when I tell you what to do."

Draco looked at the floor. _In her mind, I've changed from prisoner to slave. She used to disapprove of slavery._ "Yes, ma'am," he said.

Her fingers twitched slightly when he spoke, and he braced himself for punishment without being entirely sure what he'd done. Then she sighed. "Anything you can touch in here, you can use unless one of us tells you otherwise. One of the elves will be watching all the time. Don't try to kill yourself. We'll chain you if we have to, but you'll be healthier, physically, if you move around. Helen recommended regular exercise. Hm..." She looked around the room. "We'll figure something out."

A set of possibilities with access to various types of exercise space and equipment sprouted as she considered that. He couldn't guess which were most likely or even be sure that they wouldn't all wither. He cleared his throat. "Would reasonable requests include books?"

"Of course." She seemed startled that he'd doubt it. "Fiction and history, at least. Anything else, I'll decide on a case by case basis."

"Newspapers?" He felt a little glow of hope.

"Ron plans to make you read intelligence reports. He says you're going to be useful."

_Which means I live. Potter won't kill me unless I force it, not unless I'm really stupid._ Draco closed his eyes. He feared each member of the trio for different reasons. _Potter... Well, I don't know which Potter I have to face yet. He's too... variable. It's like trying to predict Aunt Bellatrix. Weasley is cold blooded as hell when he wants to be. He doesn't see as far ahead as I do, but he also knows that. He'll do whatever he has to to crush threats. Granger... How can she still have ideals? And she almost understands what matters._

He looked up at the ceiling and discovered a deeply recessed skylight. _A window. I never thought of a window._ The light coming in through the skylight was dim, almost faded, and he guessed that the glass currently lay in shadow. _Light. No view, but light... I haven't seen_ out _in-- Too long._

Granger cleared her throat.

Draco flinched as he realized that he'd been staring at the window long enough for her to notice. "That's really there, isn't it?" He had to know for sure.

She looked up at the skylight then back at him. "Yes. Yes, it is." She shook her head. "You'll get an hour or two of light through it each day, at least during the summer." She cleared her throat again. "The elves will bring you food on a regular schedule. You can ask for snacks if you like. Take a bath before Harry comes. You have time, a few hours at least." She left the room without looking back.

********

Draco picked at the meal Vesky had delivered. He'd gotten better at waiting over the years, but practice hadn't made the process easier. _It's good. The house elves won't forget to feed me. Not like-- Why isn't he here yet? I want to get this over._ He forced himself to lift the fork, to chew the food and swallow. _And again. And again. Potter might decide to stop feeding me. Eat now while I can._ He managed another four mouthfuls then got up to pace.

He carefully kept the doorway in sight. He didn't want to miss Potter's arrival. _I'll pay for any inattention. I'll pay anyway, but--_ He froze as he heard a sound. He stared at the doorway, wishing desperately that he could see through the wards. _But I can_ hear _through them. I did, didn't I?_ He shook his head, trying to clear it.

Draco dropped to his knees the moment the shoe started coming through the wards. He couldn't breathe as he watched the body follow. He sagged as he recognized Weasley. _Not Potter. Not yet._

"Abject looks good on you." Weasley prodded Draco with the toe of his shoe. He surveyed the room. "Go finish eating. You're too damned skinny as it is. I don't want you dying on us."

Draco ducked his head. He stood up and returned to the table.

"Is there anything I could order you to do that you wouldn't do?"

Draco hesitated as he reached for his fork. He looked back at Weasley. "There's a lot I _can't_ do."

Weasley settled himself on the arm of one of the overstuffed chairs and leaned across the back of it. "Not the same thing."

"No." Draco laid his hands on the table. "I don't know. I suppose it depends on what happens if I don't. If you tell me to kill someone you're going to kill anyway..." He shrugged.

"Killing's clean, Malfoy." Weasley sounded amused.

"Yes," Draco agreed. He lifted his fork. "I know." He looked at Weasley again, trying to make the next statement firm. "I won't pass this curse to anyone else. No matter who. No matter how you order me to."

"You don't want to be rid of it?"

"Not that way." Draco thought of might-have-beens. "She wouldn't say yes. They tried her, though, while they searched for me."

Weasley sat bolt upright and glared at Draco. "Ginny?"

His voice made Draco shudder, and he hastened to shake his head. "Lovegood." He sighed. "That will-be wasn't good, you know. Not after she broke. But she didn't so it wasn't. As bad, I mean."

"Luna? Do you know what happened to her?"

Draco knew he had Weasley's full attention. "You didn't find her? She was alive the last I knew. I think." He tried to remember for sure. "Yes. They thought I'd die eventually, so they were taking care of her. They needed her strong, physically at least." He blinked, forcing himself to focus. He lifted a hand, tapping his fingers against the possibilities. "You didn't find her. That means... Who got away? You got my father. Who didn't you get? She's probably alive if she hasn't said yes yet. If she has... Yes. That's most likely. A strong thread. If she has, you'll lose a brother soon. Bill or Charlie. They're valuable and vulnerable. Percy's vulnerable but not valuable, not as much, and the twins would be suicide. Lovegood hasn't mastered occlumency. She couldn't stop even a mediocre legilmens."

"Where? Where is she?"

Draco tried to find that, reaching high up into the possibilities. He sagged in his chair. "I don't know. I'm sorry." He met Weasley's eyes. "Father might know. He probably planned it. He always wanted to be the next Dark Lord."

Weasley almost didn't touch the ground getting to the fireplace. He grabbed the tin of floo powder that Draco hadn't been able to touch when he'd explored the room earlier. He threw a pinch of it into the fire and called for his brother, Bill.

Draco started eating. He'd just doomed his father to questioning and, probably, torture. His day was looking up just a little. _At least I won't be the only one suffering._

He'd almost cleared his plate when he felt Weasley's hand on his shoulder. Draco looked up.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Draco hunched his shoulders. "I didn't know. I have to look to see things. There's too much." _I should have been looking._ "I'm sorry. I am. I'll do better."

Weasley squeezed Draco's shoulder. "You do that." He pulled out a chair and sat down across the table from Draco.

"You didn't come to ask about Lovegood."

"No." Weasley propped his elbows on the table. "Hermione's having doubts. Don't do that."

"I'm sorry." Draco didn't expect that saying he hadn't meant to would do anything but anger Weasley. He looked down, not sure what form punishment would take. "I'll do better."

"I expect you to." Weasley leaned back in his chair. "She forgets that right and wrong don't matter, just winning and not losing."

"You won," Draco admitted. _I wanted you to win._

"And we did exactly what we had to win. Even Hermione."

Draco bowed his head.

"Make her angry at you sometimes. Tell her the truth about Pureblood customs as long as you tell her the Weasleys don't keep the ones she hates. That'll give her something to feel good about fighting."

Draco nodded without looking up. _I can do that._ He heard a sound from the doorway and slipped out of his chair to kneel on the carpet.

Weasley rose with no hurry. "Hello, Harry." He rounded the table and put a hand on Draco's head. "Malfoy, here, just gave me something that might help us find Luna."

"Do you need him for anything else?" Potter didn't sound angry. His words slurred a little.

Draco couldn't tell if the speech difficulty were due to an injury or to something else. _Let him have been drinking. That's one of the better sets of possibilities. If he's been that badly injured-- Let it be drink._

Weasley chuckled. "No. I'm done. I'll just take myself off." He sauntered to the door. "Have fun!"

Draco kept his eyes on Potter's feet. He saw the hem of Potter's robe lift, and then the whole robe hit the floor. When Potter sat in one of the large chairs, Draco crept close. He heard the sound of Potter's trousers opening. _No question what comes next._ He raised his eyes just a little. _At least he bathes. Some of the Death Eaters didn't._

A long hour later, Potter had Draco bent over the bed and was sodomizing him with something hard and rough and far too big. Draco's face was wet with tears and snot. He didn't bother trying to suppress the sounds of pain Potter's abuse elicited. Potter wanted his suffering, and Draco couldn't think of anything to be bought by robbing him of it.

Beyond a few terse commands, Potter hadn't bothered with words. Draco had scrambled mentally, trying to stay a step ahead and guess what Potter would demand next. Mostly, that had meant waiting passively for Potter to hurt him further.

Potter pushed the thing in Draco's ass in hard and growled. He pressed one hand against Draco's back holding him down. "Why don't you fight?" He sounded hugely frustrated. "You're supposed to hate me, sneer at me, insult me and my friends. You _deserve_ this."

Draco gave a shuddering sigh that was at least half sob. "I deserve this," he repeated flatly. _I do. It's easier if I do._ He closed his eyes. "I can fight if you want that." _It can't be harder than pretending that I was glad to see whatever stinking Death Eater Voldemort had given me to for the night._ "I'm sorry I'm already broken." He didn't see a point in lying about it.

Potter growled again. He slapped Draco's ass then sat down on the bed next to him. "It would be fake."

Draco had no answer to that. _Does he want me to keep that thing in my ass? Probably._ He clenched his muscles, trying to keep it from slipping out. "I'm sorry," he said.

Potter laughed. "Somebody has to pay for it all."

"Yes." Draco'd known that for years. "And I'm here."

"For Dumbledore. For Hogwarts. For Ginny. For everyone she killed."

Draco shook his head. _Oh, Potter..._ "Ginny didn't kill anyone. That was Voldemort."

"That's not how she saw it."

"Even when she was alone in her head, she wasn't exactly thinking clearly. He left a lot of traps." Draco actually had no idea what had been going on in the girl's head, but he suspected that Potter didn't either.

Potter gave a shuddering sound that might have been a sigh or a sob or something halfway between. "She was supposed to be okay. The one person I could protect."

Draco wondered how badly he was bleeding.

"Why didn't she trust me to save her?"

Draco bit his tongue to keep from answering. _Do_ not _answer Potter's questions. Not all of them. Answer Weasley's. He won't punish me for truths he doesn't like. Potter will. Don't tell him he couldn't have saved her. Don't. And don't tell him he could have kept her alive longer if he'd moved faster, been smarter, made the right choices._

Potter grabbed a handful of Draco's hair and used it to lift his head. "You _know_ things. Tell me. What made him decide to do that to her? Did he kill her or--? And--" Here Potter hissed, saying something Draco couldn't understand.

_Parseltongue? Probably. Voldemort did that when he was really angry._ Draco froze, feeling a lot like a small rodent facing a very large snake. The toy Potter had been using on his ass finally slipped out and fell to the floor with a thunk.

Potter ignored it. "Snape provided the potion that gave her clear moments. He talked to her more than once-- What did he say to her?"

"I don't know." Years of lying to Voldemort helped Draco keep the lie from showing on his face. _The possibilities. That, if she died, you'd win. Not how long it would take, not that, and not what it would cost. That, if she lived, she'd kill you, kill her brothers, come to Voldemort as the only lover he'd ever consider-- a piece of himself in someone else's body. She believed him because we showed her the possibilities in a way that couldn't lie, in the pensieve, and getting that in and out was-- I don't know how he got it past you or Voldemort, but he did. He even gave her the means. It was a kindness. Not that you'd understand that._ Draco buried all of that in the depths of his mind. Voldemort couldn't have found the truth through legilmency, so he doubted Potter could. _I hope._ "I wasn't there."

"You know something!" Potter shook Draco's head. "You have to."

Draco didn't have to feign fear. "I don't think he killed her-- Voldemort, I mean." His voice fell to the barest whisper. "He was so very angry when she...died. He punished me for not seeing it coming. He punished everyone around him for simply being alive." _I'm not telling you that my father suggested it, told him that she might be vulnerable to his possession because of the diary. You hate me enough without that. Who to blame? Pettigrew. Yes. I think he's dead. Maybe. If he isn't, it won't matter. I think. I hope._

Potter dropped Draco's head, stood up and walked away.

After a moment, Draco heard glass clinking and guessed that Potter had poured himself a drink. _First rate firewhiskey, another thing I can't touch._ Draco took a deep breath, trying to enjoy the respite and to ignore the aches in his body. He knew his legs weren't going to hold much longer, so he let himself slide toward the floor. _Potter's less likely to be angry about that than if I climb up on the bed._

*************

Draco wasn't sure how much time had passed when Weasley returned. Draco thought he might have passed out for a while. Certainly the amount of alcohol remaining in Potter's bottle had decreased considerably.

Weasley glanced at Draco then turned to Potter. He shook his head. "Shouldn't have left you alone, Harry." He pulled Potter to his feet, supporting him as he staggered. "Let's get you home." He half-carried Potter toward the door.

A few minutes after they left, a house elf appeared in the middle of the room. It advanced on Draco and said, "Master Weasley is saying, 'Well done, Malfoy.'" It clicked its tongue in dismay as it took in his condition. "Vesky brings healing potions."

"A bath, please," Draco whispered. _Not that a bath will help. Potter hurt me worse than years worth of Death Eaters. They knew how not to kill people when they didn't want to._

The elf nodded and whisked Draco to the bathroom. As it cared for him, he could hear another elf out in the main room complaining about the blood on the carpet.

He closed his eyes. _So that's Potter._ He reached for the possibilities as a way of distancing himself from what was happening to his body. _Since the elves won't kill me for ignoring them..._ Seeing where Potter was now let him narrow down the possibilities leading to that now. _Given Granger and Weasley... Not that or that. Plausible. Maybe. No. Plausible._ Eliminating some possibilities as might-have-beens made it easier for him to identify the reasonable might-bes.

Granger and Weasley weren't worried enough about Potter for the drinking to be completely usual. They were, however, concerned enough about him to have no hesitation in offering up Draco, who one pitied and the other valued, for abuse. _And Granger said they were going to...use me, too. Did she mean it or was it a ploy to manipulate me? Is she no longer capable of talking to an enemy without seeking psychological advantage?_ Draco sorted through might-bes. _If she meant it, Weasley would be looking at me differently, but she didn't exactly not mean it, and he would do it. He knows I could drive a wedge between them. He also knows I won't try._

Some of the possibilities where he tried ended well. _If I could keep track of what I needed to do, never lose the thread. If I tried and didn't do it exactly right, she'd skin me alive. At best. And that's without considering what Potter and Weasley would do. I'm too tired, too close to getting lost in my own head. And if Potter had to drink to work himself up to it, today's probably the worst of it. Probably._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: attempted suicide, resulting temporary disability, Harry deliberately harming Draco.

Luna danced with sylphs. She hadn't mastered the patterns of the dance, but as long as the sylphs didn't care, she wasn't going to worry about it. She didn't think they were as wise as the Taoists claimed, but they were better dancers than any of the boys at Hogwarts. _Pity I won't be able to tell anyone, but dying really is splendid. It doesn't hurt a bit. And really, it shouldn't. Professor Snape said it wouldn't. Or maybe this is enlightenment-- dancing without a care. Though I don't think an incubus was what he meant when he said 'unbearable pressure.'_

_Does he even believe in incubi?_ Luna decided that it didn't matter. She had her own evidence after all, so that Professor Snape's opinion was quite irrelevant. She started playing tag with lightning. She'd never had the chance before, after all, and wasn't likely to again. _Unless death is quite different than I thought. Which it could be. Very easily. I've never done it before._

Lightning didn't feel at all the same without a body. _More like water, and water is like wind, and wind is like-- Ooh!_ Lightning caught her and pushed against her in a tingling jet that left her feeling more alive. _Much better than dancing._ She chased lightning. _Who knows how much time I have left? I might as well enjoy it._

Sudden pain sent her plummeting. She struggled to stop her descent. _How can I fall without a body?_

The sylphs shrieked, and the treetops below her rattled. //To land is to die.// Their winds plucked at her like parents' anxious hands.

_Ah._ She found herself missing eyelids as the ground slowly drew closer and she had no means to block the sight. //It's all right. I'm supposed to die,// she told the sylphs. //Thank you. It was a glorious dance.// She made herself move faster earthward. _I don't want more pain._

She found herself falling back toward the luxurious but ugly room where the incubus had come to her. _Where I shared the poison with him and then had sex. The sex was probably a bad idea, but I was going to die anyway, and it was fun. He was good at it. I suppose that goes with being an incubus._ Her body and his still lay in the bed.

They were surrounded by people working frantically to wake them.

_No!_ Luna started struggling again. She wanted no part of her body now. //To land is worse than dying,// she told the sylphs. _Who probably can't hear me any more._ She found the jagged edge of a broken ward and wedged herself against it. _I can't go back. I can't keep saying no._

The incubus coughed, convulsed and vomited. He opened his eyes.

_Poor fellow. It must be hard to tell people you failed. Will they punish you?_

Those working on her body redoubled their efforts. "Damn Malfoy," one of them said. "If he was going to help us find her, couldn't he help us find her in time?"

_What? Do I know... her?_ Luna tried to see only to discover that being bodyless made that harder too. _I can't not see, and I can't see properly at all._ She tugged at the wards in frustration. _Wait. The wards are down. I didn't break them. The Death Eaters wouldn't. Maybe..._ She sighed. _Hope is a terrible thing. A terrible mistake, maybe. But they mentioned Draco._

She moved around the wards and let herself slip back into her body. _This is going to hurt..._

*******

"There are times, Miss Lovegood, when I envy you your luck," Professor Snape said as he walked into Luna's room, "and times when I thank whatever mercy is responsible for it being _your_ luck and not mine."

Luna looked up from the battered children's book she was reading for the seventy-fourth time. "Hello, Professor." Having no idea what had brought him to her cell, she kept her voice utterly neutral. She hadn't ever bothered with hostility toward her captors. She couldn't see that it served any purpose except to set them off. _But it's him. That's different._ "Chance is a gyroscope," she told him. "It goes up and down and around and around then skips over the ground."

His lips pressed together hard.

She plucked the end of a thread from her blanket and tugged it loose. _Don't talk to me unless it matters. I'd rather not know. I'm not supposed to know. I was never supposed to know._ She smiled at the thread. _And I don't actually_ know _anything at all._

He walked close to where she sat and leaned over her. "Your...gyroscope...is about to crash, Miss Lovegood. It may still right itself, but it also may not. We're under threat. The Dark Lord is confident that we can hold here, but you're to be moved." He reached his right hand into his left sleeve and produced a small vial. "Secure this somewhere. In case of unbearable pressure. It may be the only kindness I can do you."

Luna met his eyes. "You shouldn't do me any." _Bad. Very, very bad._ She accepted the vial and hid it in her clothing. "Draco?"

"He's agitated. I had to sedate him. He won't remember you when he wakes. It's better, easier for him, that way."

_Whatever Draco thinks is going to happen to me is bad enough to worry the Professor._ Luna folded her hands. "I won't say yes, you know. You can't convince me." _I promised Draco that. Do you know that he never told me about you? You seem to think I know. If I didn't, I'd be dreadfully confused._ "I don't think I'd like spinning, weaving and cutting. Textiles don't suit me."

One corner of his mouth twitched. "The Dark Lord still feels that we can take a kind approach to you."

"Up and up and up." She sang the words as she started a cat's cradle with the thread.

"While Draco lives, we have time, Miss Lovegood, and needn't resort to undue pressure. You have that long to consider your best course." He nodded curtly.

"Draco's not going to die," she said calmly. She hadn't seen that shadow on Draco the last time she'd seen him three days before. She smiled a little, hoping to reassure the Professor through all the layers of things each wasn't supposed to know. _Draco trusts him. Draco needs him._ "He's lucky to have you."

He gave a choked, bitter laugh and turned to leave. "It shouldn’t hurt. That's the best I can give you. I hope you've no need of my advice later."

"You've given me enough over the years." She dismissed him from her mind and started trying to figure out the best way to conceal the vial. _I may need it, after all. Ending quickly would be better when I'm sure I have to than breaking my promise._ She plucked more threads to string together. _Bad luck. Being captured. Good luck. They found Draco and didn't need me. Bad luck. They wanted a spare. Good luck. They wanted an unbroken spare. Bad luck... Well, yes. Time for it again, I suppose._

The sound of the door closing and locking again was the only goodbye she got.

*******

_And good luck once again. Of a sort._ Luna picked at the edge of her much newer and nicer blanket and missed the old, frayed one. This blanket covered her legs, protecting her from the chill as she sat in the sun, looking out over the garden. _No flowers yet. Neville says there will be._ She turned her face to the sun. _At least he seems happy._ She wondered what sun felt like to sylphs. She hadn't told anyone about dancing with the sylphs. She might tell Professor Snape if she ever saw him again, but she rather hoped she wouldn't see him. _I never thought it of them..._

Harry, Hermione and Ron ruling the British Wizarding World sounded like a ridiculous fantasy, the sort of thing she'd have made up to be sure that no one listened to her. "It is true, though." She twitched her legs in frustration. They still wouldn't hold her more than a meter or two. "Not far enough." _Not when nobody wants to tell me what's going on._

Hermione had muttered about 'Stockholm Syndrome' when Luna asked after Draco and then launched into a lecture about how lucky Luna was that she hadn't taken the full dose of Snape's poison.

"She didn't understand why I laughed," Luna whispered to the sun. "I couldn't explain the joke. That would spoil it."

Hermione also insisted that the incubus wasn't actually an incubus but simply a wizard from the continent who'd been sent to infiltrate the surviving Death Eater movement in order to unseat the Triumvirate. "They don't approve of us," Hermione had said. "As if we were worse than Voldemort and his murderers."

_They think you'll break the Statute of Secrecy._ Luna had known it to be true immediately, instinctively, but she couldn't find the words to say it. "She'd want to know how I know, or she'd exclaim that she can't understand how anyone could possibly believe something so patently ridiculous." Luna sighed. "Except it isn't ridiculous. Draco could tell her." _And she might believe him. Maybe. More likely than me, anyway._ She had no idea how to convince anyone of her sanity.

"Hello, Luna." Ron waved to her from across the terrace.

Luna waved back and managed a smile. "I can't decide if the sun's crying or laughing. Which do you think light is?"

He shook his head and didn't answer. His smile seemed indulgent. He sat down on a bench near her chair. "Sorry I haven't been by before. A month is longer than I should have left it." 

“I wasn’t awake much for a while.” She traced a circle on her blanket. “Hermione said you were busy.”

His smile sharpened. "I've been hunting rats and snakes."

Luna blinked at him. "Rats will disappear if they're not cornered."

"They also multiply if they're not dead."

"Are they?"

"What? Dead? Dead or captured." He grinned. "We won't let it happen again. Hermione has plans, you know."

Luna nodded even though she didn't know. "Hermione always has plans." She wanted to start singing, but she was afraid that would put Ron off. _He never liked talking to me before._ "I haven't seen Harry, either."

"He was hunting, too, just a little differently." Ron let the silence stand between them for a few minutes then said, "Hermione says you're asking after Malfoy."

"Yes." She let the silence fall again.

"Why?" He studied her carefully. "You were never friends before."

_We despised each other, you mean._ Luna shrugged. "We were both in Hell. Different circles but still both there. He kept me out of the Pit by going there himself, over and over and over." She looked at her hands. “I lost track of the years, but I know it was years.”

"He forgot about you until I asked."

"I know." Luna smiled. "Professor Snape obliviated him. He was upset."

"How on earth do you know that?" Ron raised his eyebrows.

Luna started counting the trees. "I never _knew_ anything. I extrapolated. Just as well no one ever interrogates a prisoner about things she shouldn't know. At least not more than once."

"You're our friend, Luna. We missed you." Ron looked away. "We had a service for you after we found your father's body. We thought we'd just missed yours." He sighed. “And it was nearly six years.”

_So short a time? A lifetime is what it seemed like. So I must be, what, twenty two? Twenty three?_ Luna kept counting trees. _And if I weren't your friend, I'd be in trouble, wouldn't I?_ "They didn't take me because I knew Harry. You can tell him that. They just thought I'd be useful." Her fingers tangled together as she tried to make a cat's cradle without string. "I never was because they had Draco, but he might die at any time, and only Professor Snape could track what he was saying."

Ron looked at her sharply. "He seems relatively clear to me. Under the circumstances."

_Admission. He is here._ Luna's smile faltered a little. "Do you think I'm mad to want to see him?"

Ron shook his head. "But you'd be better off forgetting about him. He wants to see that you're really safe, and he deserves a reward, but I can do that without disturbing you."

"It's all mirrors." She touched her face, flicking her fingers up over her cheekbones. "You're not being kind to him."

"We're feeding him. He has his potion. He's well enough."

_But you won't look at me._ "Food is good. The Death Eaters only fed him when the Dark Lord remembered. Or when Professor Snape was around. He mostly wasn't."

"We had jobs for Snape, too." Ron stood up and walked to the edge of the terrace. "Hermione'll kill me. She says you need to forget."

"You could do that, too," Luna said gently. "I haven't a wand, you know."

He stood for a moment with his back to her. The wind lifted strands of his hair. "We're trying to get a reputable wand maker in from America. None of ours seem to have survived. At least the countries in the Americas will still talk to us."

"They've never cared as much about the Statute of Secrecy."

"That's what Malfoy says." He turned back to her. "If you want to go on, to forget, we can make you an ambassador to the continent. We'd give you an assistant who knows what's going on. You could get on with your life. Maybe even pick things up again with Chalfoun."

"Who?"

"The poor bastard you poisoned. You seemed fond enough of him, based on what we found."

Luna blushed. "Oh, the incubus. Well, no woman could have resisted his wiles. Magic, you know. Besides, I thought it would be my last chance. I thought an incubus would be good at sex, and I wanted to die feeling good."

Ron laughed. "Only you." He shook his head. "We haven't deported him yet. He's still sick, and he's technically a terrorist. And we thought you actually _liked_ him."

"Oh, well... He was charming, and he was good at the sex part, but really? He wanted me to say yes to the curse. I was supposed to love him enough for that. That's how I knew he was an incubus. He made me want to say yes, even knowing how terrible it would be."

Ron rubbed the back of his head. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. "According to Bill, Chalfoun had enough attraction spells and charms on him to persuade the Wizengamot to endorse mandatory public nudity."

_If the Wizengamot still existed._ Luna nodded firmly. "As any incubus would."

"Do you still want him?"

Luna blinked. "The sex wasn't _that_ good. If we made him live as a human, he'd probably have bad breath."

Ron blinked. He opened his mouth then closed it again. He sighed. "Luna, if you want him, you can have him, any way you want. I'm only saying it because Hermione thinks we all need to start having babies, lots of them, or there won't be enough witches and wizards to keep things going. She's been talking about 'acceptable genetic stock' and the 'limited gene pool' and other stuff that makes my head spin. Anyway, if you wanted to have a baby with him-- and do whatever else-- you could. He hurt you, so you have first rights." He blushed. "Hermione said you might not want to, not if..." He trailed off into an incoherent mumble.

"No one raped me, Ron." Luna kept her voice clear. "There was no sex before the incubus. The only one I'd have considered was Draco, and he was too traumatized." _Yes, really. You may not believe it._ "He needed a friend who didn't think of him that way, so I didn't."

Ron eyed her with a look that Luna took as evaluating whether or not she was a risk to his plans. She tried to look as fey as she could manage. _I'm harmless, Ron._

"Do you really want to see him?"

"Yes." _I want to take him flying with the sylphs. I want him to come with me to explore the world. I want him as safe as I am._

"You'd be better off forgetting him."

"If you're giving me a choice, I owe him memory." She hummed a lullaby. "I can't stop you if you're hurting him." _I want to._ "Please let me repay my debt to him."

"Do you want to have his child? Someone has to."

_No!_ "If that saves him something worse."

"Only if Hermione is worse."

_She might be. I don't know. I don't know any of you._

"She says it's good public relations, shows that we're willing to do the things we're going to ask of everybody else." His hands clenched just for a second.

_And you hate it._ Luna twisted her hair around her fingers. "Why offer to let me leave if you need people?"

"Someone has to go." Ron looked away again.

"If I'd wanted to go, I'd never have woken up." Luna studied his back. _He's gotten so tall._

"The poison you used... Snape gave it to you?"

Luna studied the question, trying to find the trap. "Yes."

"It's the same one Ginny used."

_Oh._ "It didn't hurt at all," she offered. "Not until you made me come back. It was rather wonderful."

He looked dubious. "We haven't told Harry. He still takes it personally."

"Well, it was personal, wasn't it? I expect he couldn't think of anything else that would hurt Harry as badly. He would have done it, after it was suggested, even if she didn't have access to the Order and the Ministry. He wasn't smart enough to do it for practical reasons."

"Snape?" Ron sounded almost hopeful.

Luna blinked at him. "Of course not. Professor Snape rarely did anything that wasn't practical."

"Ah." Ron sat on the bench again. He looked at her for a long moment. "Think about leaving, Luna. Think about forgetting. It might be better all around. You're a friend, and..." He hesitated then cleared his throat. "If you're here, whether you remember him or not, I will use you against Malfoy."

She looked down at her hands. "You'll do that even if I'm backpacking in the Andes. I just won't know when or how." She straightened her back and looked at him. "I'd rather know."

*********

Luna tried to convince Ron to let her visit Draco in his own quarters. She wanted to see just how bad it was. The fact that Ron refused led her to conclude that there was, in fact, something to hide. It might be anything from parasitic fungi feeding off of Draco's fragile sanity to something as simple as a knotted maze with his cell at the center. The sylphs were talking to her again, and they didn't know where Draco was.

Her second suggestion was a meeting on the terrace where she'd spoken to Ron. He countered by offering to bring Draco to her room. She accepted that with enough speed that she could see Ron reconsidering, so she asked him how the rainfall in Surrey had affected the spread of dandelions and whether they'd yet finished their war with the violets.

_He even allowed an open window and a meal. With wards and a house elf chaperone._ Luna looked around her room with reasonable satisfaction. _Though Ron does underestimate the flowers. I should ask Neville's opinion._ She sat on a daybed with pillows thick enough to drown in propping her up. She reached for her book, using the movement to touch the wind. //Welcome. I want you to meet my brother when he comes. So you can find him again.//

//Of course.//

Draco looked utterly terrified when he walked into the room. Luna wasn't sure anyone else would notice, but she could see it in the set of his shoulders and jaw, in the way his eyes focused forward rather than on the floor or moving to take in details of his surroundings. His eyes widened noticeably when he saw her, and his shoulders relaxed. He looked at the floor.

Hermione followed him in with her wand drawn. She looked at Luna. "I still think this is a bad idea."

"Perhaps." Luna would allow that much. "But it's _my_ idea. I've been having those for years, but nobody would let me keep them." She waved her little finger at Draco, certain he'd notice and almost certain that Hermione wouldn't.

"You need to put all that behind you. A new hobby or a holiday or even college." Hermione shook her head and started to rearrange the books on Luna's table.

"If you do that, I won't be able to find anything." _And you might guess what I'm researching. I worked hard to avoid a pattern, but you might guess._

Draco smiled, just the barest movement of one eyebrow.

Hermione sniffed, but she stopped moving books.

Luna offered a distraction. "I haven't seen many people, Hermione. Now that I can almost walk, I thought I should."

Hermione gave her a look that said very clearly, "But not him!"

Luna smiled. "I'd like to see everyone again. I'm just afraid... It's too much all at once. Maybe soon...? Dinner with a few friends, maybe Ron's family?"

Hermione looked pleased. "That's easy enough to arrange. I'll do that."

Luna made a little shooing motion. "Now let me confront my past. Full circle round and round. Spirals..." She laughed. The sylphs spun around her, making her hair dance.

Draco's eyes widened, but Hermione didn't seem to notice. "I won't hurt her, Granger," he said. "My word on it."

"There's more than one way to hurt a person." Hermione frowned. "Look at me, Malfoy."

Draco turned to face Hermione and raised his eyes to her face. His posture told Luna that he didn't consider Hermione an immediate threat.

_She's still predictable, isn't she._ Luna sighed.

"I don't want her upset. Not at all. She's been sick. I don't want you setting her back."

"You run in lines, Hermione, not in loops." Luna waved her hands, trying to attract Hermione's attention. "I need to go back to go forward."

Hermione's eyebrows drew together. "I just don't think--" She shook her head and sighed. "All right, Luna. You have to try this." She looked tired. "I'll be by later, in case you need to talk."

Luna smiled and looked over Hermione's shoulder. "Talking's just words. We could do better."

Hermione looked at Luna then shook her head and walked out.

Draco didn't relax.

"Go look out the window," she told him. "It warded so that we can't put a finger past the frame, but you can see and smell and hear, and the breezes come in."

He looked at her, really looked at her. "They do, don't they?" There was a peculiar hitch in his voice.

"Go look," she urged. _I want to see how you walk, and I want the winds to taste you properly._ "They haven't left us quite alone," she added. "There's at least one house elf listening in case we need something."

His chin lowered just the slightest bit, not a nod for anybody but her. He walked over to the window.

"You've gained weight." //My brother,// she whispered to the sylphs. _And you're not badly injured. I think there are some bruises under your clothes, but at least you have clothes, and they're not just there to hide damage._

"The food here is good." He stared out the window, down the hill at the lake. "I only have to ask."

"Yes, Ron told me that." She sighed. "He wouldn't let me visit you, though. Is there fungus?" She injected a note of hopeful curiosity into the question.

He almost laughed but managed not to make any noise. "It's warm. And clean. And dry. There's a skylight and a bath and..." He hesitated. His hands twitched. "...and a bed and a table and books." He didn't look away from the window.

"Ah." She wouldn't ask him to elaborate. "I could look out the window forever, I think. I'd forgotten what sky tasted like."

"Yes." He reached toward the window, his hand shaking.

"Don't." It came out more sharply than she'd meant. She sighed when he flinched and froze. "I'm not sure the wards won't hurt you, Draco. They're not likely to be friendly to you."

He lowered his hand.

The sylphs wove around him. Luna could hear them even if she could no longer see them.

"She said you'd been ill." He didn't turn to look at her.

"Poison," Luna said cheerfully. "Professor Snape gave it to me in case things got too hard." _I won't tell him about the incubus. I don't think he'd believe that I chose it._

"Ah." His hands gripped each other like enemies. "I'm sorry." He bowed his head. "I forgot."

"No, you remembered. In spite of having been obliviated. Professor Snape was afraid you'd give something away because you were thinking about me, so he made you...not." Luna didn't force herself to smile because he wouldn't see it anyway. "I wanted a picnic outside, but Ron wouldn't do that either. He said there were too many security risks. I think he meant that you might run off."

"I can't."

"I know." She did. She didn't like it, but she understood. "I will be fine, you know. No lasting effects."

"You're among friends now." He looked back at her.

"Yes." She shook her head minutely. "We've all changed, but we're friends." _I'm not sure they know I've changed, and I don't think their mirrors are telling them truth._ "What did Hermione tell you when she brought you here?"

His shoulders tightened. "Nothing."

_She said something, or you wouldn't have been so frightened._ "She doesn't see the wind or hear the earth."

"Most people don't." He shrugged.

_He's not sure if she was intentionally cruel._ "The mazes of the soul aren't visible. It's too bad because they're pretty."

"Unless they're ugly." He walked over to her daybed and started to kneel on the floor beside it.

Luna grabbed his hand and tugged. "Ugly can be pretty when it's necessary." _And it's better to see it._ He resisted her, and she could see the calculation in his face. _Not will they use it against him-- that's given-- but will they use it against me?_ "Sit, Draco, please." _I don't care. We've beaten the possibilities before._ "I am Ravenclaw," she reminded him.

He smiled at her. "Smart isn't as good as cunning."

"I prefer clever." She tugged him down beside her on the daybed. "It allows for more."

"It does." He relaxed against her, and she wrapped her arms around him. "I missed you, Lovegood."

"I think you can call me Luna now. The secret's seven feet tall and glowing."

"Yes." He turned his face against her shoulder.

She rubbed his back as he curled his legs up on daybed. _I won't ask. Everyone always asks._ She hadn't. She was sure that was one of the reasons he considered her safe. _I see enough anyway._

He laughed damply, and she suspected he was crying. "You should ask, Luna. Really."

"Hush." She smoothed his hair. "I don't need to know."

"You didn't need to." He shook his head, still pressing his face against her shoulder. "You didn't have choices. You do now."

She sighed. "Can I help you?" That was the only question she cared about right now.

"I don't know. Maybe." He sighed. "They like you. Don't squander it on me."

"I don't have anyone else."

"You could."

"Yes." She wouldn't deny that. "Ron offered to send me to the continent. France, probably." _Not Italy._ She let the silence thicken for a while. "Hermione wants babies. Yours. Should I?"

" _No_." He pulled away, and she let him go.

"I told Ron I didn't think so." She blinked at him. Revulsion touched every bit of his body. "I'm not a thief."

He relaxed slowly, terror trickling out to puddle on the carpet like mercury, poisonous, other and contaminating everything around it.

Luna blinked again, and the puddle disappeared.

Draco rocked back and forth. "I know. I know. I know," he said.

"You can put those aside," she told him. She mimed throwing something away. "They're not real."

He was still. "I know." He crept closer again then froze.

"Do I need breadcrumbs?" She hadn't provided herself with any, so she felt at a loss.

He laughed again, and now he was crying. "I missed you. I forgot you, but I still missed you." He took a deep breath. He bit his lip.

She held her breath.

"I'll make it cryptic. How's that? Will you feel less guilty?"

Luna shrugged. She had no idea if it would help at all.

"Look at the people near them. Potter cares about friends. Granger cares about the world. Weasley... cares about winning." He managed a half smile. "That's observation, not..." He twitched his hands as if sorting something. "You'll take observations, right?"

She nodded. "Observations are here and here." She touched her head then touched her heart. "They don't bleed out of you."

He wrinkled his nose. "Thanks for the metaphor, Lovegood."

"Luna," she corrected.

"Only on special occasions. We might manage those." His smile flickered on then dissipated. "Don't talk to foreigners as long as you're in the country. Just... don't."

"That's not cryptic. It's the straightest of straight paths. Narrow, too."

He shook his head. "I don't want you to forget." He touched her arm. "I'm not lying to Weasley. I don't have the energy."

_So don't do anything to make him need to lie. He won't remember to._ "Truth is a complicated mosaic." She started placing tiles in the air. She layered some over each other, over and over and over. Then she leaned over and put a finger across his lips. "Hush. You'll hurt yourself."

He started to speak then stopped. "You're not going to die," he said very softly. A true smile lit his face. "You're not going to."

"The wind won't let me." She returned his smile.

"Oh," he said then, "Oh!" He shook his head. "That almost makes sense. You're not... No." He glanced around the room.

"Do you want food? I think Dobby's waiting to serve us." _Yes, someone's listening. You know that._

He nodded. "More advice-- You need a wand." He leaned in close and whispered, "Don't get between them and me, please. They'll want you there when they think, as a handler. Well, Weasley will. He understands. He's sure to try it at least once. He's too good at strategy not to."

Luna smiled at him. "I can take Ron at chess," she responded in an equally quiet voice. "He's never seen me really play."

Later, she called Dobby in and had the him move the daybed nearer to the window, and she and Draco looked out until they fell asleep. She hadn't intended to sleep because she had no idea how long they'd be allowed, but she'd under-estimated her own exhaustion. Draco had fallen asleep first. Luna had watched him sleep, wondering how long it had been since he last felt safe. _His fifth year, I expect._

She woke to the sound of a footstep and the sylphs tugging for her attention. She looked up to see Harry in the doorway, staring at her and Draco. She stiffened as something she couldn't place wafted through the air to her. _A scent? A touch? A...I don't know. Wrong._

Draco stirred, no doubt awakened by her movement.

"Harry?" She couldn't help making it a question.

Draco twitched and pretended to be asleep.

"He looks so harmless like that." Harry stared at Draco. His hands opened and closed repeatedly.

"He's not," Luna admitted. "Like a wand isn't."

Harry blinked. "You _like_ him."

Luna tilted her head and considered that. "Salt and water," she said after a moment. "Bitter burning." She traced a pattern in Draco's hair. "'Like' is not very specific."

"Just answer the question." Harry didn't quite growl. He also didn't move any closer.

Draco moved, making a show of waking. He raised his head. The moment his eyes fell on Harry, Draco cringed and slithered toward the floor.

Luna held his arm, trying to keep him beside her, more to make a point than because she thought she would succeed. _I'm still too weak. Breeze or storm isn't clever._

Draco reached the floor, knelt then pressed his head and shoulders against the wood. He didn't look at Harry.

"Very good." Harry walked into the room, stopping near Draco's head.

"Harry..." _He's so much bigger than he was._

Harry smiled at her. "I'm sorry I took so long to visit, Luna." He stepped on Draco's fingers, grinding his foot hard.

Draco gave a sharp gasp but didn't move.

Luna met Harry's eyes. "I am glad to see you." She looked out the window. _Don't get between them._ She started a cat's cradle again, asking the sylphs to make strings only she could see. After a moment, she looked at Harry again. "It's been a long, long time. Immeasurable. Mountains sprouting. Boundaries crashing." She smiled at him.

He blinked at her and took a step back. "I'm sorry it took so long." He looked away. "I'm glad it was in time for you."

The air echoed with unspoken apologies to the dead. Luna let her eyes unfocus. "'Time, it is a precious thing. Time brings all things to your mind...'" She didn't quite sing it.

Harry sighed and sagged a little. He looked down at Draco, frowning a little. "What do you want from him, Luna?"

She bit her lip. "When you have nothing, you value little. When you have little, it's priceless." She looked out the window. "Pain echoes for hours. Please don't. Not here." _Not ever. I'll hear it. I intend that._ //Follow where my brother goes,// she told the sylphs. //Follow and tell me. They can't keep the air out forever.//

Harry shifted from one foot to the other. "Right. Well, I'll... I'll just take him home and come right back. We can talk then. I do want to know how you are." He snapped his fingers at Draco and headed for the door. He paused in the doorway and looked back at her. "I moved your murals in when we built the castle. I didn't know... We thought you were probably dead, but..." He shrugged.

As Harry walked out the door with Draco crawling behind him, Luna shuddered. She recognized, at last, the texture to the air around Harry. _He tastes like the Dark Lord. Like an oily echo that won't quiet._ She covered her face with her hands.

Harry wasn't gone long, only a little longer than Luna needed to calm herself, wash her face and brush her hair, but Luna took little comfort in that. _Death and pain take no time at all. Even when you're watching. When you're not there, you don't know, so it's uncertain. Infinite._

She mustered a smile for Harry. "Would you like..." She looked out the window, trying to guess the time. "...dinner? We fell asleep before we could eat, so there's plenty, and... neither of us touched it." _There's no contamination._

Harry sat on the edge of the chair closest to her daybed. "Food would be great." He coughed slightly. "I'd been thinking to offer you dinner anyway. That was why I came by." He rubbed his shoe against the floor until the sole squeaked. "You've been stuck with Hermione and...and, well, the staff. You were Inner Circle. I mean, as far as we had one at Hogwarts."

"Circles spin and spin." Luna sighed. "Spun me away and you up here." She steeled herself and leaned over to touch Harry's hand. "Not very good for either of us." Harry's skin felt unexpectedly normal.

"How did they-- Who was it--" Harry shook his head. "We had no idea what had happened, and Hermione hasn't had any answers."

"Reminders. She's against them. Even when she doesn't know what they are." Luna looked out the window. "I'll never be able to read Rupert Bear again. Arithmancy is uplifting." She waved toward her table full of books. "I walked to market. That was all. They wore masks, so I didn't know who they were. They took me and shoved me in a cell next to Mr. Ollivander." _He must be dead. Ron said they needed a wand maker._ "The hard part was _him_. He wanted to be sure I was 'suitable.'" She decided not to detail that. _Harry knows what having the Dark Lord in his head felt like._

"I was lucky. They caught Draco less than two weeks later. That made me the spare instead of the test subject. _He_ expected to live forever, so he'd need more than one seer. They don't usually last very well. That's why they didn't bother taking care of Draco at first. After that-- _He_ said Draco was broken, usable, good for figuring out how things work, but only a prototype. They'd use Draco until he died and then apply what they learned to me." She studied Harry's face, trying to see if he understood. She hadn't bothered explaining it to Hermione.

Harry's expression had grown increasingly grim as she spoke. He rubbed his scar. "We don't need a seer, you know. Not Malfoy and certainly not you. You're safe. As safe as any of us anyway. You don't depend on him any more." He looked serious. "There aren't many of us left. The Muggles lost about twenty-five percent of their population. Even they couldn't miss that. We lost sixty. More like seventy if you count the people who got out of the country before the Interdiction."

_No wonder Hermione wants babies._ "I thought the trees were louder than I remembered." _No wonder Ron thinks Draco can be useful. No wonder Harry and his friends are in charge. There's no one else._

Harry tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "If I ever find out who designed the Interdiction spells--" He looked at her and shrugged. "It focuses on magical ability, not on training, not on ownership of a wand. Wands can be replaced, so if you want to stop Wizarding refugees, blocking people with wands isn't enough." He stood and walked rapidly to the window. "Children. Muggle refugees leaving the country with children would find one or two suddenly sick-- seizing, feverish, and, eventually, dead-- because those children _could_ be Wizards. Some day. With training. When we had people to spare, we had to keep covering it up. When we didn't have people to spare..." He shook his head. "Muggles aren't stupid. They were wondering anyway."

Luna traced a spiral on her robe. "It's not the one who made it. It's the one who wanted it made. That might be the same person. That might not." She ran her finger across the invisible spiral twice, crossing it out. "How many children died?"

"That we know of? Twenty-two. We don't know how many others. It stopped being important enough to make the news. We didn't-- Even the Muggles didn't have people to keep records of who was trying to leave. We saved some."

"Worlds." Luna forced herself to her feet and followed Harry to the window, leaning heavily on furniture to keep her legs from buckling. "You saved worlds, Harry."

He pulled something out of his pocket, something small and hurled it out the window.

The sylphs told Luna that it was Earth. _A rock. A pebble. 'A world in a grain of sand...'_

"We had to...divert resources from...other things." He hurled another rock.

_Does he carry rocks just to throw from windows? Well, maybe they asked him to. It's not like they can throw themselves._

She put a hand on the windowsill and leaned against the wall next to the window.

"We didn't have time for politics or subtlety."

_How many people did you kill, Harry?_ "You did what you had to." Luna put her arms around Harry. "I wasn't there, so I don't know if there was another way. I don't think it matters. We can't take a single step backwards." She leaned on him, partly because she needed the support and partly because she couldn't think of a better way to communicate absolution. _For sins confessed, at least._ She wanted to take it as a good sign that he could still regret. _He is Harry. No matter what else he is, he's still that._

He put his arms around her. "You shouldn't be up, should you?"

"One step at a time. Forward. Well, and around." Her right leg gave out, and she lurched against him.

He guided her back to the daybed. "I shouldn't be worrying you with all of this." He shook his head as he settled her.

"I'm not worried." _Not by what you've said, anyway. The war is done. Your faction won. The others are dead._ "Would you like tea?"

Harry laughed. "I've missed you, Luna. I really have."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of pregnancy, discussion of forced pregnancy, discussion of magical abortion, mention of infanticide

Potter didn't make Draco crawl all the way back to his room. Draco tried to feel grateful for that rather than admitting shame at being petrified and hauled along magically. _At least if I crawled I wouldn't see anyone looking at me._ He distracted himself from the stares by sorting possibilities. _Lovegood-- Luna-- will be fine. As long as she doesn't lose her temper. She won't. It's not likely. She dealt with Death Eater lunatics every day without screaming at them. She can handle Potter._

Potter dumped Draco on the floor. "I was looking forward to talking to Luna. I haven't seen her since Bill's wedding. I'm not letting _you_ spoil things." He ended the spell holding Draco immobile.

Draco cradled his injured hand against his body. _Anything I could say would make things worse._ He looked at the floor, trying to lose himself in the threads of the carpet. He barely noticed when Potter left. He noticed the house elf trying to get his attention, but he ignored it. _I saw Luna. Potter stepped on my hand. I saw Luna. It was real. I know because my hand hurts. I saw Luna._

He looked up when he heard heavier footsteps. "I saw Luna," he told Granger. "My hand proves it."

"Get up, Malfoy." She sounded irritated. "Get up and let Vesky look at your hand."

He stood up. "I saw L-- Lovegood." He decided that he shouldn't share the name with Granger.

She studied him and sighed. "Yes. You saw her. She saw you. You saw each other."

"My hand hurts, so I know it was real."

She sighed again. "Go and sit at the table, Malfoy."

He went.

She put a leather bound book in front of him. "I was saving this for the next time we talked about your siblings." She opened it to reveal a blank page. "When you need to remember a detail, write it down." She set down a quill and a pot of ink. "Write it down. 'Today, I talked to Luna Lovegood.' That way, you can remind yourself later."

He looked at her. He nodded and lifted the quill. He looked at it, turned it over in his hand. "A quill. And a book." He ran a finger along the spines of the quill then back again.

She opened the ink for him.

_Lovegood is alive._ He wrote it carefully. _I saw her. She has a window. Potter stepped on my hand. Lovegood is here._ He looked up at Granger. "Thank you."

She nodded stiffly. "Now let me see your hand."

He kept his eyes on the words he'd written as she healed his hand. "You're going to read what I write." He couldn't even make it a question.

She sniffed. "It's not as if you're writing secrets. We know Luna's alive. We know your mother's alive. Even if you keep forgetting. We know the skylight's real."

_Right. No secrets. Do I have secrets? Yes. Ginny Weasley. Professor Snape. Luna's whatever that was. Or was that real?_ "Lovegood was upset."

"I expect she was." Granger sat down. "She and Harry are having a nice dinner now. It's good for them both to catch up."

Draco considered what else Granger thought was good for Potter and shuddered.

"I charmed the book so that only you can remove or add pages."

_But not so that only I can write in it or erase. Would they play those sorts of games with me? Why bother?_ He couldn't think of a reason, but he knew that, if there were a reason, Granger would be the one exploiting the opportunities. _Potter will hurt me because he wants my pain. Weasley will use me because I'm useful and treat me well enough to keep me useful. Granger... She pities me sometimes but craves proof of power over me, too, pain, submission, whatever she can elicit. And that-- Has she ever admitted to herself that she likes power, that she gets off on it?_

"Thank you." He didn't want to look at her or at her gift, so he closed his eyes. "The times when you're kind make the times when you're not worse." _She knows that. Does she know that I know?_

"Yes." She stood and put a hand on the top of his head. "It's a well established technique for creating uncertainty, dependency and so on."

"I'm not broken enough?" He could see, looking back at the probably-weres that led her here, her reading about interrogation, about conditioning, about the human mind and applying what she'd learned, altering it to fit reality. Several paths might have brought her here. All of them carved her into a truer shape than she'd have permitted under kinder circumstances. _She still has ideas about being civilized._

"It's habit, Malfoy."

He thought he heard the barest hint of an apology there. "There wasn't anyone else who could do what was necessary," he whispered. He could hear her telling Potter and Weasley so. "Potter lacks... He can't put his feelings aside. Weasley hadn't the patience. Anyone else... Who would you trust?"

"Indeed." Her hand moved down, along the side of his head and neck to his shoulder. She squeezed. "You would have been a challenge." There were traces of regret in her voice.

"Under other circumstances." He could see that. Even knowing that it was a might-have-been rather than a probably-was or certainly-was, anxiety twisted his diaphragm. He took a deep breath then repeated it. "Is that what you want from me?"

"To play at it? No." She walked away. He still hadn't opened his eyes, but he thought she stopped by the fireplace. "A faux struggle doesn't appeal. There are other challenges, more rewarding ones."

_You like it. You miss it. That shames you when you remember that all of us have been people._ "Rebuilding."

"It will be a waste if we don't make things better."

Draco managed not to laugh. "That's why the Muggles are here." He made the statement as flat as he could. _Not implying they shouldn't be here. Not implying I look down on them._ He opened his eyes and studied his hands. He couldn't see any trace of bruising in the one Potter had crushed.

A few seconds passed before she spoke. "It's safe here. They're Muggles who knew enough to ask for protection. That's all."

He didn't look up. "Why lie to me, Granger? You don't need my good opinion. These are the useful Muggles. You could have put them in safe places-- less safe places-- elsewhere. You decided, didn't you? The place isn't crowded enough for Potter to have made all the choices, and Weasley wouldn't have thought about Muggles at all." He shrugged. "I'm Slytherin enough to see your reasoning."

"Segregation is as dangerous as integration. More dangerous in the long run, really." She walked back to the table and studied his face.

He kept his eyes lowered. "There are many ways both could go wrong." _I'll tell you if you ask, but I expect you already know._

She tapped a finger on his jaw. "Look at me. No one is allowed freedom of this place who isn't sworn to one of us. No one."

He looked up. "I would swear."

She shook her head. "You swore once and betrayed it."

"Ah." He wanted to look away, but he wasn't sure he had permission. "I swore once and was betrayed." He bit his lip.

"What did you expect? Voldemort's oaths were all one way."

"I was sixteen." He couldn't quite keep the anguish of that out of his voice. "I suppose you all had better sense at sixteen." He curled his fingers into fists. "There are worlds where I didn't. There are worlds where you did. There are worlds where Severus Snape was sorted Ravenclaw, and Harry Potter was never born. There are worlds where Tom Riddle was adopted or where his father raised him. He hated those. When I wanted him out of my mind, all I had to do was wander those might-have-beens. He never realized I could control it that much."

"You can see alternate timelines that split off before your own birth?" Granger sounded half intrigued and half horrified. "Are there any limits?"

"I don't know. I haven't... When I look at myself looking more than a century or two back, I always see myself going mad. If I do it with a spotter, I drag them with me." Now he did look away.

"Malfoy--" She hesitated, and he guessed that she was looking for the right question. "This...curse on you, is it hereditary? If you have children, will it pass to them?"

He froze. _When I talked to Luna, she said something about..._ "I haven't looked." He couldn't help doing it now. Children who might be, who could be, who probably wouldn't be spread out in front of him, cascading, blurring, fighting for his attention. _More lives to protect. More deaths. Almost certainly that._ He licked his lips. "No. Not unless I try to pass it on, and I won't."

"We need more children."

Draco could hear the royal 'we' in that sentence, but he supposed that she was entitled.

"You're healthy enough, genetically."

"Genetically?" He had no idea what the word meant.

"I'll bring you some books to explain it."

He thought about pretending that he had a choice. Instead, he bowed his head. "Will you abort the squibs?" He couldn't see her doing it, but he also couldn't see her waiting until after they were born to dispose of them.

"Abort? Malfoy, have you been listening?" Exasperation rang in her voice, and she glared at him. "We need children. Wizards or squibs, it doesn't matter."

"Oh..." Something tight in his throat released. "Oh. Of course." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Voldemort wanted children, too, but he--" He shook his head. _He killed any that didn't measure up._ "At least they weren't _my_ children. You're talking about my children, Granger."

"I'm talking about mine, too. At least the first one." She sat down next to him. "If I'm going to demand it of other people, I have to show that I'm willing, and you fit that nicely."

_Now? She's demanding this now?_ "You would protect the child, even if it lost you status?"

"I thought you said I wouldn't bear squibs." The words had an edge of acid.

"I wanted to make you angry." _I hoped you'd forget._ He took a deep breath. "You probably wouldn't. Muggleborns usually don't. Purebloods... Well, there's a reason for in utero testing." _I can do this. I have no choice._

"Do you have numbers?" Granger frowned. "I've met very few squibs."

"They aren't allowed to be born, not in the better families." Draco considered his own family. "It's not something witches tell wizards a lot about, but do you know of any other Pureblood families as large as the Weasleys? One or two children is all they can manage without having squibs." He looked at the possibilities, at his mother's own terminated pregnancies. "The test almost never misses a squib, but..." His eyebrows drew together. _Oh, mother... I don't think I'll ever tell her this._ "The might-have-beens show that I could have had a lot more siblings with magic if my mother had ignored the test." He interlaced his fingers and clenched. "Part of the hatred for the Weasleys came from their success in producing magical children. I wonder if they just--" His voice broke.

"Molly and Arthur Weasley would have taken and loved whatever children they had." Granger patted his arm. "I'd give you a stiff drink, but that would do you more harm than good. Perhaps a calming draught--?"

"Please..." _If you want me to...perform, I'll need at least that much._ He sighed. "At least all three of you bathe."

Granger sniffed. "Your standards are low."

"I'm not allowed to have standards." He met her eyes. _If I did, cleanliness would be the least of it._ "I'm not allowed to have anything."

"If you could have something, what would it be?"

He shook his head. "That's unnecessarily cruel, Granger."

"Ron might--"

Vesky's arrival interrupted Granger's sentence. "Vesky is bringing calming draught and special for Draco Malfoy potion."

Granger rose and bustled about, making sure that the potions were what she expected and then ordering Draco to take them.

The calming draught brought Draco an uneasy clarity that he'd rather have done without. He rubbed his hands over his face. _Weasley and Potter are going to kill me no matter what I do, and Granger won't change her mind because she's right. This is a powerful way to convince people that she's serious._ He couldn't help sorting possibilities, letting his fingers pluck each strand. "Will you let me see the child?"

"Would you want to?"

He looked at the floor. After a moment, he admitted it. "Yes." _I know I'm crazy. I know I'm-- My past isn't...desirable. Please._ He released the possibilities. _None of them might happen. Most of them won't. I don't want to mourn phantoms._

She lifted his chin, forcing him to look at her. She studied his face. "Perhaps," she said after a long moment. "At least once."

"Make it either not at all or regularly. Anything else would be...hard. For the child." She wouldn't, he was sure, do it for him. _Is there any chance it won't happen? Maybe she can't or I can't or..._ Then he touched a probability that froze him. "Granger--" He bit his lip, unsure how to say what he needed to. He slipped from his chair to kneel on the carpet. _I have to do this right. Just right..._ "There's something you need to know..." _How...? Yes. Follow Weasley's instructions. More or less._ "There's a custom, a Pureblood custom." He picked at the carpet. "Not all Purebloods, just the conservatives, the lineage obsessed ones. It's about marriage ceremonies."

Granger's eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. "And marriage has a bearing on this how?"

_I've offended her._ He bowed his head, fighting the impulse to flatten himself on the floor. "Married, Pureblood women _die_ from carrying a child that's not their husbands'. At least if they've married into the wrong family."

"And yours is the wrong family?"

He nodded minutely. _As if she didn't assume._ "Please don't...don't do that to my mother." He opened and closed his wand hand. "Father could break it or any of his children. Well, any who can hold a wand."

"Does it take long?"

He looked up. _She's planning something._ "A few seconds."

She nodded. "You can tolerate the pain that long." She sounded certain. "I've studied Snape's notes. There won't be permanent damage. It's a tacked on limitation rather than something inherent to what you've become." She smiled grimly. "You're good at bearing pain."

_To save my mother._ He allowed himself to sag. "I've done less pleasant things to protect her."

"Good. She's fertile and young enough. Good thing witches age more slowly than Muggle women. We'd never be able to do this otherwise. Our gene pool is tiny." She gave him a hard look. "And we need something from her to justify keeping her alive."

He tried to take some comfort in the fact that they had no desire to torture her. _She didn't do anything but follow her husband._ "Where are my sister and brother?" _I wish I could remember their names..._

"We gave custody of them-- and of her-- to Neville." Her voice was gentle again. "He's as good with children as with plants."

Draco couldn't picture Longbottom as good at anything. He touched the possibilities. "He's...kind?"

Granger sighed. "Yes, Malfoy, he's kind." She pushed her hair back from her face.

_She calls me 'Malfoy' to remind herself not to feel sorry for me._

Granger walked away. Her feet stopped in front of one of the overstuffed chairs, and she sat.

He studied the carpet and hoped that she'd go away. Knowing that she wasn't likely to leave, he wondered if she'd be cruel, kind, or clinical. _On the whole, I prefer clinical._

She summoned a book and flipped it open.

_After all of that, she's going to make me wait?_ He wished he could glare at her. _Get it over with, Granger, or go away so I can forget until it's time._ He sighed as she turned a page. _I'm already broken. There's nothing to be gained by torturing me._ "A window," he said.

"What?"

"If I could have anything-- of the possible things-- that's what I'd want." He was pleased to realize that he had her full attention. "The other things I want aren't possible." That wasn't entirely true, but those that were possible were either vanishingly unlikely or a greater weakness than he was prepared to offer for exploitation. "You asked," he reminded her.

"I did." She lowered the book. Her eyes narrowed a little.

"It doesn't have to be real." He picked at the carpet. He couldn't see a shadow of a window, so he didn't expect to get one. Even with the recent potion to anchor him, he hesitated to search far into the possibilities for something so small. _The things I want are all small._

"I don't think you're quite as broken as you think." She looked thoughtful.

_And possibly intrigued. Is that bad?_ He shook his head. "No one ever bothered to play mind games with me. Too subtle and too... I'm not anchored well enough. The Death Eaters capable of mind games were smart enough to not want to destroy the Dark Lord's seer." He sighed. "I'm used to brutality. I know how to survive that."

"Are you saying we're worse?"

_Not we-- You._ He shook his head. "I just don't know what you want. When Potter comes in here-- or Weasley-- I know what he wants. I know how to survive it." _I'm begging, aren't I?_ He closed his eyes. _Not in so many words, but...yes._

"When I want something from you, I'll tell you."

He bit his tongue so that the pain would remind him not to speak. _When she talks to me, I want to...converse. She might consider me human under other circumstances._

A sound from the doorway made them both look up. Weasley stepped through the wards.

Draco let himself sag a little. _The odds that I'll say something colossally stupid just dropped._

"Hello, Ron." Granger reached an arm up for a hug, giving Weasley a welcoming smile.

_Nobody's ever going to look that glad to see me._

Weasley sat on the arm of her chair. "Vesky told me you were here, but she got upset when I tried to ask why."

Granger made an exasperated noise and set down her book. "He wouldn't let her heal his hand. She was distraught."

"His hand?"

She shrugged. "Harry." She put a hand on Weasley's leg. "Malfoy thought the pain would help him remember Luna."

Weasley met Draco's eyes, and Draco thought there was a hint of pity there. Draco looked away.

"I gave him a journal to write that sort of thing in," Granger went on. "It may save us a few repetitions."

The carpet was deep red with threads of black, green and gold creating patterns. Draco thought there was no magic in its making. There didn't seem to be any magic in most of the things he was allowed to touch unsupervised. _The plumbing is about the only exception._ He traced the black lines with a finger, trying to ignore Granger and Weasley. He wasn't sure what they'd ask of him or if they'd ask anything at all. _Or why they're still here when they don't seem to want_ me _for anything._ He swallowed hard. _If it were Weasley and Potter, I'd already be sucking one of them off. If it were Granger and Potter... He's more willing to have her see him beating me than to see him fucking me. That will change when he realizes that it upsets her less. I don't think he realizes that it upsets her at all. I don't think_ she _realizes it._

"Malfoy." Weasley's voice pulled Draco out of his thoughts. "Get off the floor."

Draco stood up. He kept his eyes lowered and avoided looking at the possibilities.

"Do you want to see Luna again?" Weasley sounded as if he already knew the answer.

Draco nodded once. His hands wrapped themselves in his robe to stop from shaking. "Please." _Whatever the price._ He glanced at Granger. _Do you approve this time?_

"I'm withholding judgment," she said. "Apart from some upset over...the interruption, your visit doesn't seem to have hurt her."

"From time to time, then," Weasley said. "For good behavior."

_Good behavior._ "Have I done anything wrong?" Draco asked quietly.

Weasley actually laughed. "No. It just may be easier if there are rewards." He stroked Granger's hair.

Draco closed his eyes and touched the possibilities. Something was making him uneasy. _Oh, yes. That. I didn't want to remember that._ He sighed. "What if I obey and..." He bit his lip. _It doesn't matter._ He shook his head.

"Ron and Harry won't hold obeying me against you," Granger said firmly. She put extra emphasis on 'Ron' as she looked sideways at Weasley.

_Yes, they will. Because they can't hold it against you. But Weasley might not punish me-- or the child-- for it, and Potter might not punish the child, not if the question of it is out in the open._

Weasley raised his hands and grinned at Granger. "Hey, I'm at least smart enough not to argue with you."

She smacked Weasley's arm, and Draco flinched. "Family, Ron," she said.

_She knows he's not happy. Good._

Weasley leaned down to rest his head on hers. "Yes, Hermione."

Draco felt the possibilities shift. He started climbing them, trying to see what had changed.

*******

When Malfoy's eyes rolled back in his head and his legs started to give way, Ron got there fast enough to keep his body from hitting the ground. _He still weighs nothing._ He looked at Hermione. "What the hell is this?"

She shrugged. "Snape's notes mentioned passing out and seizures as indications that what Malfoy could see was changing or that he was looking too far." She looked unconcerned, and Ron relaxed a little. "He just had his potion, so whichever it is, he should be fine."

Ron knew that, if she'd been talking to anyone else, she'd have picked up her book or started studying her fingernails to demonstrate her unconcern.

She was studying Ron instead. "I'm surprised you didn't let him fall. Weren't you saying we shouldn't be soft on him?"

Ron considered the floor and the bed, weighing the message sent by setting Malfoy on each. "There's a difference between not soft and cruel." He hoisted Malfoy and carried him to the bed. "He's an asset. I don't want him damaged." He dumped Malfoy far enough in that he was unlikely to slide off then checked for a pulse.

Malfoy's pulse jittered under Ron's fingers, and Malfoy's breath rasped and choked a little. He didn't look any paler than usual.

Hermione's fingers brushed Ron's arm near his shoulder. "He isn't exactly Malfoy any more, is he?"

Ron gave a sharp laugh. "Still sounds like him. Except for the groveling." _I don't hate him, if that's what you mean. I wouldn't think of him at all if it weren't for you and Harry being obsessed. Well, and Malfoy being dead useful._ He turned and took her in his arms. "I suppose people do change," he allowed. _Not that it matters. We're going to use him no matter who he is._

"It would be easier if he hadn't."

_Not this again._ "Would you want to have a baby with a man you hated?" _You plan to use him. Wouldn't it be easier not to care? Except... I miss the Hermione who did care._ He kissed her forehead. He sighed. "You'd think it would be easy. I just want you to be happy and safe. You and Harry and my brothers." _And their families and..._

Hermione turned her head so that her eyes were on the door rather than the bed. "There are always other people who want things, too."

_And we have to deal with them or lose what we want._ "I miss Quidditch." _I miss simple things._

"There are compensations." Hermione ran her hands over his sides and back.

_Unlike Harry, I don't forget when you do that._ He smiled. "There are."

She nuzzled his throat.

Ron ran his thumb along her breast. "If it's your baby, it's family." _Babies made Mum happier. Bill says so. I just wish she were talking about mine or Harry's._ "I want to be here when you do it." _No, I don't, but you'll like it if I'm supportive._

She stepped back and blinked. "I was thinking of artificial insemination."

He had no idea what that meant and rather hoped that neither Malfoy nor Harry would know either. "What--?" _These explanations never lead anywhere good._

She giggled. "Him and a cup. Me and a-- Well, I'll figure that part out. We must have something appropriate."

Ron suspected that he looked like a beached fish. "But you-- I thought-- Don't you want to--" _Shut up. Don't finish those sentences. She'll kill you._

She wrinkled her nose. "Not that he's not attractive. He always was that. I don't want to start a baby that way."

_It's not less forced if he uses a cup. Still, if it makes you feel better..._ "I didn't think you minded what happened to him." He pulled her back to the chair they'd been sitting in.

She let him tug her down into his lap then put her arms around his neck. "I don't care about him. I care about me." Her tone implied that he should understand the distinction.

"Hmm." He buried his face in her hair and inhaled. "We don't get enough time for us," he told her, "or for us with Harry." He closed his eyes so that he could shut out the room and simply enjoy her body against his.

She leaned against him, fully relaxed. "Nobody else can get in here." She turned to kiss his nose. "The house elves won't disturb us here for less than a full emergency. A real one."

"We need more space like that." He rubbed her back. "Some place without Malfoy." He glanced at the bed where the other man still lay unmoving. "Should we be doing something for him?" he asked reluctantly.

"There's nothing we can do," she replied. "Not unless you're a legilmens and haven't told me."

He laughed. "I can think of more unlikely things, but..." He shrugged. _Who would have taught me? Nobody had time._

She put her legs over the arm of the chair and leaned back so that she could see his face. "According to Snape's notes, legilmency is the only real way to help. The rest is the potion and his own will and ability to focus. I wish I had time to do my own research. It's fascinating."

_And you don't entirely trust Snape's notes._ "How much is Malfoy lying to us?" He had his own opinion, but he wondered if Hermione's would match his.

She wrinkled her nose. "More than he thinks and less than he could." She twisted a bit of her hair. "I think there's not much important enough to him for lying. His mother. His sister and brother. Snape." She hesitated. "Probably Luna."

"Not his father?"

She shook her head. "He told Snape not to kill his father. Told him knowing what would happen." She frowned. "I can't talk about both father and son as Malfoy."

Ron hesitated. _Do I want her to bring him closer?_ He ran a finger over her lips. "Call him Draco, then. He's going to feel more and more human no matter what you do." _Especially if you come here to read, love, or for privacy or...whatever._ "Let it be on our terms."

She nipped at his finger. She shifted slightly to press her ass against his groin. Her smile told him that she knew perfectly well what she was doing.

He gave her a small groan and moved a little so that she could feel evidence of the effect she was having. "We should go somewhere else."

She shook her head. "There'll be six problems waiting for each of us, supposedly urgent things that only we can solve." She slipped her fingers under his collar.

"And if he wakes up?" _Will you be embarrassed? I don't think I want him seeing you that way._

She smiled brightly then kissed him, her tongue teasing his lips apart. When they broke the kiss a minute later, she said, "I told him I wanted to see you fuck him."

Ron flinched a little even as the heat in her voice made him raise his hips to rub his cock against her ass. _That turns her on that much...?_ He ran his hands along her legs, squeezing gently as he moved them upward. "Rather...fuck you..." His breath hissed between his teeth. _You or Harry._ He froze and pulled back. "Harry looks ugly when he fucks Malfoy." _I don't want to look like that. Not when you're watching._

She pulled back, too, brushing her hair off her face. "I thought we were calling him Draco." She licked her lips. "So you don't touch...Draco when you're here with Harry?"

He looked away. "I let him--" _Make him._ "--blow me. He's damned good at it. Nothing else." _Years of practice, I suppose._ "Do you--?" He shrugged, not sure what words to use.

"Harry doesn't want to. There's nothing sexual when I'm here with them." She shook her head. "Where did we lose him, Ron? I mean, he's still there most of the time, but he's changed. When did he start needing to kill, to hurt, to have enemies?"

"He still loves, too. He hasn't lost that. He still wants to protect people." _Except some people. There's no mercy in him._ "He just couldn't-- _We_ couldn't be kind and still win. And if we hadn't won..." _You know as well as I do._

"We haven't won yet."

"Draco says we have at least ten years, if we play it right, before we're invaded." Ron let confidence in his own ability leak into his voice. "That's long enough to be ready to win."

She swung her feet down. He didn't try to stop her as she stood up and straightened her robe. "Draco's not always right."

"No, and I'm not relying on him." _Though he hasn't been wrong yet. He's missed things, forgotten things. He just hasn't been wrong when he's said he's sure or when he lays out the probable options._ "I wish he were saner."

"He's saner than he has any right to be." She looked down at Ron. "To make him saner, you have to make him feel safer. Making him crazier would be much easier."

"How badly does Harry need...this?"

"This?" She gave the word a little twist. She waved her hand around the room. "This is a substitute for what he really needs and can't have. Draco's too broken to fight or to run. Harry hates him, and that helps, but Harry needs opposition to destroy." She tugged on her robe. "Without Draco… Without Draco, Harry would go looking for-- for something else."

Ron pressed his lips together. _We both know that fear of Harry is part of what makes people listen to us. They know we can leash him if we want to._ "Chalfoun hurt Luna," he said casually. "She says she used him, but I don't think Harry would see it that way." He shrugged. "Unless you think you can still get something out of him."

"He's not frightened enough to tell me much." She tilted her head to one side, considering. "He thinks we're going to deport him."

"He can't be the only agent sent in from abroad." Ron had no idea whether or not there really were others. _It wouldn't be surprising if there were. Even the governments who'll trade with us want to be sure our regime isn't a threat, and that would be easier if other people were in charge._ "Do you think he'll talk if Harry scares the hell out of him?"

She met his eyes. "Possibly."

_And we both know Harry will do more than scare him. Chalfoun hurt someone Harry values._ "Would Luna be good for Harry?" He hoped that Hermione would understand the question.

"Harry is _ours_." The vehemence in her voice surprised Ron.

"I'd share him if it would help him." _I share you with him and him with you because it helps you both._

"Oh, Ron!" She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him, all sweetness and joy in him.

He grinned. He couldn't help it. "I love you, too."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dubious consent and explicit sex, references to past rape and torture, discussion of dark magic involving binding souls, references to human experimentation.
> 
> Luna's not actually any less traumatized than Draco.

Luna found herself surrounded by people. Hermione’s idea of a small gathering had little in common with Luna’s. She let her eyes unfocus so that she could trace the threads of red that were the Weasleys. _All their children, too. It must be fire in them. No wonder they're Gryffindors._ "Does fire dance as prettily as the wind?" she asked the very pregnant woman sitting next to her. Luna thought she was Percy's wife, but Luna'd lost the thread of the introductions early on. "They're so bright and eager that I think they must."

The woman shifted in her seat, putting a little more space between herself and Luna. She stood with one hand pressing into the small of her back. "Excuse me." She offered Luna a weak smile. "The baby's kicking my bladder again."

Luna watched her go with no hint of disappointment showing on her face. Then she looked around the room. _Someone will come to talk with me. I've not been alone for five minutes all evening._ She smiled vaguely at two children chasing each other and shrieking with glee. Her smile faded a little as Bill stepped in to keep them from hitting the dessert table. _Widowed. Still mourning. Twin daughters. Those two, I think. Not him. Not Percy, either. That leaves Charlie and the twins._

Charlie caught her eye across the room and raised his eyebrows, inclining his head toward the empty seat beside her.

She shrugged. _There's too much air in him. No point in matching my air with his. Still, he did notice what I'm drinking._ She watched him stop at the table with the drinks and fill two glasses. When he approached, she put a hand on the seat and said, "I think I scared her off. I'm not really catching, but people seem to think so."

He offered her a cup containing a careful mixture of precisely one half pumpkin juice and one half dry white wine. "Cecily hasn't known you long enough." He sat down. "I hope all this isn't wearing you out."

Luna rubbed the cloth of her robe between her thumb and index finger. "It is more cheerful than any gathering I've been to since--" She shrugged. _The Dark Lord sometimes brought me out for parties. No one touched me, but I had to watch._ "I missed real people."

"I can't help with people. Not my strong suit. I can take you flying, though. Dragons, thestrals, hippogriffs..."

"As long as they're willing." _Flying won't be the same as dancing, but..._ "How do you keep burning so far from earth?"

"Magic."

"Ah." She considered that. "So you pay to fly?"

"Worth it, don't you think?" He studied her face. "Also, a dragon doesn't ask awkward questions. I thought..." He shrugged.

"You're kind. Thank you." She meant it. "A dragon won't mind that I'm missing six years." _And maybe the sylphs can translate._ As she thought of them, the sylphs ruffled her hair. "Almost..." she murmured. "Almost."

"Almost what?" Charlie sounded a bit wary.

She gave him a sad smile. "I'm all air, you see. At least right now. You're air and fire. That's better than all air, but it's not enough. We can be friends, though."

"Friends is good." Now he sounded amused.

"Yes." She looked around the room. "There's hope in that." She clasped her hands together. "Friends means not alone."

"Sometimes. Not alone is hard, too." Charlie smiled as one of his nieces started singing a commentary on her food. "It means compromises and confusion."

"Would you trade it?"

"Not a chance." He didn't hesitate.

"Good. You'll be happier. Do you miss Romania?" _Not Charlie then. Pity. That leaves the twins. One of them. Or both, I suppose, if they go like that._ She did her best to keep up a conversation with Charlie until he was called away ten minutes later to help Bill put his children to bed. The effort left her rubbing her temples, trying to ease the ache.

"Here." Harry handed her a new cup. "Helen makes a powder for my headaches. I mixed a dose with some pumpkin juice. You look like you need it, and I don't really. Not any more."

"Clarity's hard." She took the cup and drank. "I want whole connections, not broken ones."

"You don't have to make them all at once."

She was almost used to feeling Voldemort on Harry now. She didn't even have to remind herself that this was really Harry. "I've lost so much time already."

"We all have. Time and people." He looked more than a little lost.

"We'll see them all again." Luna was sure of that. _Death holds no terrors. Not for us._ She raised her now empty cup to him. "In joy."

He gave her a crooked smile. "Joy would be worth the price, I think."

"The price is our time." Luna could feel the potion easing her headache.

"That's cyclical, isn't it?" Harry frowned.

"You listen to me. Most people don't work that hard." She fixed her attention on his hands. _You don't need to, Harry. I don't really have secret wisdom to impart. It's all simple._

"You understand things that other people don't." He hesitated and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "At least.... You've said some very wise things to me in the past. I didn't always listen. I think we'd have done better with your advice these last few years."

"I'm sorry, Harry." _Poor abandoned little boy. Do you understand that we didn't mean to leave you?_ She steeled herself then leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "None of us want to lose you, either."

He reddened a little, and she realized that, with very little effort, she could seduce him.

_He'd like me to. Hermione would hate it. Draco...it would help him. I think though...._ She closed her eyes for a second. _I...couldn't. He reminds me too much of the Dark Lord, and...I couldn't forget what he's doing to Draco._ She wished she could find anger or hatred to carry her in dealing with Harry. _It would be easier to scheme. Except he'd know how I felt. And I'm not really a schemer._ "I never know the next steps until they happen." She allowed herself a sigh. "You're my brother, too, Harry. I'm dancing and flying, and if I make a mistake, it won't be just me." She touched the spot she'd kissed. "You're earth and fire." _And death, but that's not a bad thing._ "Until you heal, no one will. At least you know you're wounded." _Even if you don't know how deep or what the poison is. Too bad you're bound to the land. You need someone who's never known all of this. Ah. That's it._ "I saw the war, too, Harry. If you need innocence, you'll have to look elsewhere."

He flinched.

She tried again, knowing that she'd only have one more chance. "I would hurt you, Harry, and that would break my heart. My broken bits are in the wrong places. I'd cut you. You'd bear it, but you shouldn't." She widened her eyes and let her focus float. "Those who think I'm mad aren't entirely wrong. I think we'd drown each other for all we've neither of us much water."

He blinked then patted her hand. "All right, Luna."

She could tell that he didn't understand. _But he believes me. He trusts me._ She let the wonder into her voice. "That's the nicest gift anybody's ever given me, you know." She twisted her hair around one finger.

He laughed sharply. "I'm glad I can give something to someone."

_Oh, Harry...._ "You gave almost everything you had." _There's so little left._ "It's time to be a child. Look forward and up." _You were never really, and we both know it._ "I think Destiny has gone on. She's dancing with other people now."

"You're not afraid of me. You and Ron and Hermione." He sounded wistful.

"You're Harry," she told him firmly. "I'm not going to forget that." _And I'm used to the Dark Lord. You won't frighten me as long as you still love even though that makes you more dangerous not less._

"Thanks, Luna." He stood up then leaned down to kiss her on the top of her head. "If I were going to have a sister, I'd want you."

She smiled and held it until he turned away. Once she was sure he was gone, she let herself sag a bit, leaning her head against the wall behind her chair. _I'm not done yet. Not until I know whether it's Fred or George. One will be right. I know it._

"Hey, Lovegood. You okay?"

"Speak of the devil...." she murmured. She opened her eyes to find herself looking up into identical faces. "Too many people, I'm afraid." She waved her hand at the people beyond them. "I'm not used to this many people who aren't interested in making people scream." She let the exhaustion that went beyond the physical thread through her words. "I keep waiting for the masks to come off." She thought she could get away with telling them that much.

One settled on either side of her. "We can help a little."

She relaxed a little and made herself feel for them in the air. "How do you manage fire and water?" _With traces of air and earth and.... Yes._ "The contradiction shouldn't work."

One laughed softly, and the other said, "We're twins."

_As if that explained everything._ "Do you think Hermione would consider it a failure if I leave soon? She thinks it's important for me to be normal as soon as possible." _As if I ever were._

"Ah. Hermione." They settled back in their chairs and said nothing more.

She saw a few people, Hermione among them, consider approaching her and decide against it due to her current honor guard. She tried to decide which of them was which. _It matters._ She asked the sylphs to track them both so that she wouldn't get mixed up later. "I've been away long enough that I can't remember which of you goes with which name," she confessed. She didn't have to look to see them exchanging glances. "Oh-- Haven't you decided today? I won't hold you to it. They're your names." She smiled and closed her eyes.

The one sitting on her right laughed.

The one on her left said, "Most people don't bother any more."

_Not since your parents died._ Luna nodded to indicate that she heard the unspoken message. _Of course, they might not know they're saying it._ She opened her eyes and looked right then left. _I don't think they know. No._ She looked right again. _He knows. The other...prefers not to._ "Most people don't bother with other things, either.... Snowflake gorgons or the flower wars or the voices of the trees." She let her voice go dreamy and vague and waited to see if either of them would retreat.

Neither moved. Neither spoke.

_I might be as useful to them as they to me._ She let her thoughts drift for a while. After a few minutes of silence, her eyes fixed on the far wall. "I keep expecting...something. Now that the children have gone to bed...." She took a deep breath and held it for a second. " _He_ didn't care for children." She could feel them studying her face.

"Perhaps, George, we might help the lady," the twin on her right said.

_He chooses to be Fred, then._ She set a sylph circling each twin and whispered their names so the sylphs would know who they watched.

"I believe we might. If she wishes." George stood up and bowed to her with only the slightest edge of mockery. "May we be of service?"

"Neither of you have illusions. I'm glad somebody doesn't." She frowned slightly. "Well, Ron doesn't, but I'm not sure it counts because he doesn't care. Not that exactly. He doesn't care in general, just in specific. He never decided. It just happened. You--" She looked from one twin to the other. "Both of you decided. You knew where the lines were and deliberately stepped across."

Fred returned her smile with a smile even as George frowned. "You're interesting. We should have talked more when we were all at school."

"You weren't ready yet." Luna waved that notion aside.

"And you were?" George looked uncertain.

"Not entirely, but it doesn't matter since you weren't. I'm sure I could have been if I'd needed to be."

"Which side of the line are you on?" Fred asked.

"Neither. That would require landing, and I won't do that." Luna felt her hair starting to dance. "I'm no longer meant to be on earth. I want to be." She pointed at Fred then moved her finger toward George then back again. "Is that line clear? It doesn't have to be, but there is a line. Unless you don't want one, but that would be inconvenient." She fixed her gaze on George. "There's somebody waiting for you. If you don't want a line, she's going to keep waiting. If you don't want a line...." She put a hand on Fred's arm and felt him jump under her touch. _He didn't realize I'd gotten so close._ "This is a very nice party, even if I don't know half the people here."

George looked at her hand on Fred's arm. He looked at Fred. "We can introduce you if you'd like."

"I'd rather renew old acquaintances. People are overwhelming now." She looked at the ceiling. "It's nice not to have screaming. Very nice." She gave them a few minutes to make their decisions. _Each of them and both of them. One or the other will work. Both would be perfect. Both would be greedy. Both is not what the pattern planned, but the pattern planned me to be dead._ "Well, yes. I should be a sylph now, but that would be a pity. I still have family after all." _I shouldn't have said that out loud. Will that drive them away?_

"Your hair is dancing," George said. He sounded both fascinated and appalled. "What have you done?"

Luna shook her head. "Nothing at all. Well, I suppose I changed, but years will do that to all of us. You've changed, too. Or is that one of those things I'm not supposed to say?"

"What do you want?" Fred put his hand on top of hers which hadn't moved from his arm. "Because you do want something."

"Of course I do." Luna met his eyes for a second then met George's eyes. "I want a Weasley. One is enough, but I won't say no to two." She smiled, copying an expression she'd seen on many cats. "Weasleys remember who's family, and I've been told that Hermione will be happy if I have a baby. More than one, I suppose. If we have lots, will that drown her in ecstasy? Could we do that?"

Fred flinched slightly under her hand, but George put his hand on hers.

"I'm ready to leave, gentlemen." She smiled gently at them each in turn. "The chair Hermione gave me only works with a wand, and my cane won't see me that far."

"Will your legs recover?" Fred asked as George went to retrieve the wheeled chair.

"Eventually. Mostly. Probably." Luna shrugged. "The earth will never quite welcome my feet again, but we will find a truce."

The chair moving through the room served as notice that she was leaving, and Luna had to say a brief goodbye to each person present. Hermione frowned and hinted at future conversations that Luna planned to make every effort to avoid. Harry and Ron insisted on helping her move to the chair even as the twins protested that they were perfectly capable of doing it. Charlie kissed her on the forehead, using that to cover a whispered question. "Are you sure?"

Charlie was the only one to get an honest response. Luna smiled at him. "Quite. You've too much air." _And too much kindness still. I shouldn't like to use you._ To everyone else, she said the expected, that it had been a nice party with good food and pleasant company but that she was still not well and needed sleep.

Once they were safely out of the hall and beyond earshot of those they'd left behind, Luna said, "Might we wander a little? Walls may not make a prison, but they do get dull. Space is easier than people." She reached out a hand as if trying to grasp the air. As she stretched her fingers apart, sylphs danced between them. "I need to hear the wind."

She didn't need to see the glances exchanged over her head. "I have method, too," she told them, "and I do want to talk to you. I just need to hear the wind first."

"The garden, then," George said.

"Our garden," Fred added.

She craned her neck to look up at him. "You have a garden?" _I wouldn't have thought you'd bother._

Fred grinned and tapped her arm. "Ingredients. A source we could trust."

"We have a menagerie, too." George sounded half proud and half exhausted.

Luna chuckled. "Minions, too, I imagine. You were made for this." She looked down at her hands.

"There was a time when we wanted to make people laugh," George said.

"That's power, too." Luna watched the walls going past. "Is it all right to watch as we get there?" She had no intention of letting them keep her from knowing where they were going, but she was willing not to look. _Air is everywhere._

"You can watch," Fred said. "Everyone knows where we work."

"It's just that," George said, "most people have more sense than to want to go there."

_In for a penny..._ "You don't hide what you are." _But you don't frighten me._ She wanted to touch them, to assure herself that they were real.

They both laughed, and she turned to look at them. She bit her lip. "I suppose most people don't see it?"

George leaned in and touched her face. "Most people would rather not think about it. It's not a secret, but it's easier not to look."

"I can't do that," she admitted. "And I'd rather know." _I have my eyes open. Whatever you may think, you're not taking advantage of me._ "If I was looking for kindness, I'd be with Charlie."

Her chair stopped moving forward, and she saw them exchange a look. She wasn't sure what they were saying to each other. Her instinct, based on years of Death Eaters, was to go vague and say something at an angle. _But that still might scare them off._ Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and waited.

After a long moment, Fred said, "Lovegood, are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

"If I wasn't," she replied, "I'd have asked Hermione to take me back to my room. She's not going to approve once she has time to think about it." _And Ron won't like it. It makes me harder to use._ She smiled at them, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "I don't think the ways I'm broken will hurt you. I think... Charlie would protect me, but I'd hurt him. Badly." _He'd have to look at Draco, at what they're doing to him._ She couldn't read the expression on either of their faces, and that worried her. _This is the way the pattern is supposed to go, but I can't tell them that._

"And you need protecting." It wasn't quite a question.

Keeping the conversation linear was becoming a strain. She hesitated, trying to shape the right words. "I can't fly any more. I don't know why, but that's gone." She spread her hands wide. "I'm earthbound and as helpless as I was among the Death Eaters. You like me better than they did, but I'm less valuable to you." She sighed. "At least you let me have real books."

They exchanged another long look, and her chair started moving forward again. None of them said anything further until they came to a door just wide enough to let her chair through. It led to three steps that ended in grass.

Luna took a deep breath as they pushed her chair out onto the grass. With the door closed behind them, there was only starlight to illuminate what was around them. She closed her eyes and listened to the wind. After a moment, she said, "If I came here alone, I wouldn't get back out, would I?" _I knew they stepped over. I didn’t know they kept walking._

"Probably not."

She didn't ask the sylphs to tell her which twin had spoken. She didn't think it mattered. "And you wanted to see if I'd notice."

"You should have fair warning. We're not safe." The twin on her left put his hand on her shoulder. "You said you knew, but we didn't think you did, really."

She shivered and hated herself for doing it. "If I could fly, it wouldn't matter." She raised her hands and sent sylphs to seek the boundaries. They didn't come back for a long time. "It's as big as you need it to be." _They're stronger than I thought they were. More dangerous. Yes, well, I knew they weren't safe._ "Is this what you do with people who annoy you?"

The hand on her shoulder moved to stroke her hair. "You haven't annoyed us, Lovegood."

Her mouth felt dry. "It's Luna even when the moon isn't full."

"Luna, then."

"Are you still sure, Luna?" The twin on her right touched her cheek.

_It's still my choice. They'll let me go if I say no._ "Fire and water are still a good match for my air." She sighed. "Whose soul did you use to anchor this?"

They went still, and both hands pulled back. Nobody said anything for a long moment. Then the twin on her right said, "No one you know."

She wondered if he was telling the truth, but she decided not to ask again. _Not when I really don't want to know. And they don't regret it a bit. What else have they done?_

"Most people wouldn't guess."

_I shouldn't have said anything. Now they_ can't _let me go._ "I'm not guessing." She thought she could admit that much. She looked up at the sky and wished her body didn't weigh her down so. "At least there's no pain about it. This garden will do anything for you. Anything at all." _Including eat me._ She wondered how much force she could bring to bear with the wind. _I haven't tried it as a weapon. That would be too hard to hide._ She pulled on the air around them and wondered if she could steal their breath if they decided to hurt her. _Possibly. I still couldn't get out of the garden, not easily. Even if I could ride the wind-- and I might be able to-- it would mean leaving Draco. And, if I didn't kill them, they'd hunt me. And, if I did kill them, everyone else would hunt me._

"The logic is still sound," she told them at last. "I still need a Weasley. Or two. I don't get one of you without the other, and I don't get either of you without this."

One of them laughed. She thought he sounded relieved. _So they don't_ want _to hurt me. There's that at least._

"There's this, too," she said. "Who on earth would believe me?"

The twin on her right inhaled sharply then said, "Harry would."

"Harry wouldn't care." She knew she was right. "He hasn't got that in him any more." _Charlie might believe me, but it would break his heart. I couldn't do that. Draco would believe me, but what could he do? Only tell Ron, and Ron wouldn't care because they're family. And Ron might not like me knowing._

They both reached out at the same time to touch her hair.

"We're sorry, Luna," one of them said.

"It's not a choice any longer," the other said.

_I know._ "Could we at least go somewhere warm?" She wasn't entirely sure that going inside was a good idea. She doubted she'd have nearly as much power in an enclosed space. _Still, I have to risk it some time. And stealing breath wouldn't be a big thing. I could still do that. If I can do it at all._

*****

Luna wasn't particularly surprised to discover that the twins still shared a room. She was a little surprised by the single, large bed. _Though there's room enough for each of them to feel alone if they want._ Her nostrils flared as she tasted the room. _A little fear, not much, but enough to know. No pain. No death. There's that at least. If they hurt people-- and they probably do-- they don't do it here._

One of the twins-- the sylphs said it was Fred-- carried her into the room and over to the bed. She put her arms around his neck and leaned her head against his chest. His arms tightened around her.

As soon as he set her down, he turned her face toward him and kissed her. He took his time about it, his hands caressing her back before coming around to cup her breasts.

She pressed herself against him.

"Starting without me?" George sounded amused.

Fred released Luna and stepped back. He looked at George and laughed.

Luna looked from one of them to the other. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to kiss two people at once." She felt herself blush a little. "I haven't kissed many people at all."

"Luna--" George went down on one knee next to the bed and took her face in both his hands, turning her to face him. "We can obliviate you about the garden. Would that be easier? You'd still be with us, but you wouldn't know--"

_Would that even work when the wind whispers news to me?_ Luna blinked. She was more than a little afraid it might. She met George's eyes and raised her hands to cover his. "I'd just find something else," she said gently. "There must be evidence all over the place." She let her hands drop. "I can't stop you if that's what you want to do. Would it make sex with me easier? If I think I have a choice, I mean." _Most dark wizards wouldn't care._

George ran his thumbs over her cheekbones. "I'd like you to _have_ a choice."

She closed her eyes. "I shouldn't have asked the question. Then I'd know, but you wouldn't know I knew."

"Would you still be here then?" Fred asked.

She considered that. _Probably._ "I don't know. My plan was all curves, and Weasleys are mostly straight lines. I chose you because you were the jigsaw puzzle pieces that fit. I just didn't realize the pictures didn't match."

George's hands still cupped her face. "Why a Weasley?"

_Because Harry tastes like the Dark Lord. Because I can't do anything for Draco on my own. Because Ron will never take my children for seers if they're Weasleys._ "Six years passed without sun or wind. Everything went on without me. What would you do to feel safe?"

Fred sat down on the bed next to her. He took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers. "We're not exactly _safe_ , but we can do better for you than a lot of people. For a price."

George released her and moved to sit on her other side. He took her other hand. "We have advantages."

"Forever is longer than I expected." _I thought I'd have to catch you, lure you, trap you._ "Who's caught in whose web?"

George tucked her hair behind her ear. "I don't know anyone else who could have looked at the garden and known how we made it."

"It would be a pity to lose that," Fred said. "How did you know?"

Luna felt her expression go vague. "The plants talk to the wind." She tugged her hands free and started tracing vines in the air. She could feel the air solidifying where she touched it to form stems and leaves.

Both men inhaled sharply. George reached over and touched the vine. He snatched back his hand with an exclamation, blood beading on his finger where a leaf had sliced him.

_It's never done that before._ Luna waved a hand, dissipating the vine, and looked at George for a moment. "This isn't the first time you've been on the wrong side of this particular line."

He shrugged, and she nodded. _Thank you for not lying. I wouldn't have believed you. Not with traces of fear in the air._ She turned away.

She twitched her fingers in the air, testing for movement. She could feel them both breathing. _Should I try stopping that, just to show them I can? Or would that make them decide to kill me? Right now, they don't plan to hurt me, but they also think I'm helpless._

She sighed. "Could we go back to kissing? I was enjoying that."

George took her chin in his hand and turned her to face him. He pressed his lips to hers. She softened herself against him, letting his tongue in when it pushed against her lips.

Fred pressed against her back and began running his hands along her body. He cleared his throat and said, "Too many clothes."

They got her to her feet, and Fred steadied her while George removed her robe. They kissed her bared flesh then removed the rest of her clothing. They seemed reluctant to let her go. Their hands and mouths explored her breasts and belly. She touched each head in turn and hoped that her legs wouldn't give way.

When her legs started to wobble, they guided her back to the bed and stepped back to take off their own clothes. She let her eyes wander over each of them. _I didn't really look at the incubus. I was in too much of a hurry because I didn't know how long the poison would take._ She raised her hands, and the air told her the shape of their bodies. "Most of what I know about sex comes from watching Death Eaters, and I don't think that's how it's supposed to go."

They froze. Fred licked his lips. George reached out a hand toward her. "Did they--?"

She shook her head. "You needn't worry about that at least." _Other things, yes, but not that._

Fred smiled at her. "We'll show you how it's supposed to work." He and George exchanged a look she couldn't read. They advanced on her, each mirroring the other's movements with a precision that she found more than a little scary. They each took one of her arms and tugged her toward the head of the bed. They pushed her down, onto her back, and lay down on their sides, one to either side of her.

Their bodies pressed her arms in close enough that she couldn't move them. She felt their breath against her skin as they licked and nibbled her ears. Then they both kissed her neck.

Fred came around, kissing her collarbone until he found the hollow at the base of her throat.

George's hand stroked from her breast to her hip, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin.

Luna gasped as Fred's mouth found her right breast. His teeth closed on her nipple just hard enough to tell her that he could have hurt her if he'd chosen to.

George's mouth on her left breast was gentler, all tongue and lips. His hand brushed across her belly, going lower to stroke her pubic hair. His fingers parted her hair and dipped in to find her clitoris.

She lifted her hips, pushing back against against his touch.

Fred's mouth covered hers, swallowing the sounds she made as George pressed and rubbed her clitoris. Fred's tongue went deep into her mouth.

She pushed back against it with her own tongue.

After a moment, he pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes meeting hers. He smiled at her. "You're not afraid. Good."

She was afraid, but she didn't see anything to be gained from revealing that, so she smiled back at him. She wriggled a little, trying to free her arms.

George shifted, allowing her to move her left arm.

She ran her fingers across his chest and tugged on the hair she found there.

Fred pressed in closer. "You don't need to move. Let us do everything."

She didn't try to move her right arm again. She felt tension coiling in her belly as George's fingers continued to stimulate her. Her hips jerked. She bit her lip.

"Luna--" George nuzzled her shoulder.

She tried to use her hand to let George know that she welcomed his touch. She wasn't as sure how she felt about Fred who was squeezing and stroking her breast as he nipped at her neck. _I don't get one without the other._ She rolled her head to one side to give Fred better access.

Fred rolled on top of her and kissed and nibbled his way down her body until he was kneeling between her legs. He lifted George's hand and said, "My turn." He buried his face in her crotch.

Luna writhed and cried out. She lifted her hands to bury them in Fred's hair.

George caught her wrists in his hands and held them. "No." He kissed her hands and pulled them close to his body. "Come for us, Luna." He released her hands and touched her face.

She dug her fingers into George's shoulders. She wasn't sure if she was trying to escape Fred's tongue or trying draw it closer, but his grip on her hips wouldn't allow her to do either. Orgasm ripped through her, making her scream.

Fred's tongue didn't stop.

"Please--" she gasped.

George laughed. "Is that a 'please stop'? Because he won't, not until you can't bear it. Then he'll fuck you until you can't bear that." He leaned in and kissed her gently, just barely tasting her lips. "Then it'll be my turn."

She came three times more under Fred's tongue. By the time he stopped, she was limp and spent and could offer neither resistance nor encouragement as he pushed his way into her body. By this time, she understood not to try to touch him. Instead, she offered him a tired smile.

He grinned at her in return, looking unbelievably pleased with himself. He leaned in and kissed her.

She could taste herself on him. She wasn't sure she liked it, but she supposed she could get used to it. She reached out her left hand toward George and was pleased when his fingers interlaced with hers.

Fred rocked in and out of her body, driving deep over and over again. He wore an expression of intense concentration.

She'd hoped that George had been exaggerating, but Fred showed no sign of coming to the point. After what seemed like hours, she began to whimper with each thrust and squeezed George's hand tight.

George stroked her side. "Any time now, Fred," he said, sounding amused. "I think you've fucked her pretty thoroughly."

Fred set his jaw and shook his head, but he started to move a little faster. His breath hissed between his teeth. He pushed deep inside her one more time and collapsed forward on top of her.

She wanted to put her arms around him, but she didn't need George's sudden pressure on her left arm to tell her not to. Instead, she lay very still and waited.

Fred sighed. He pushed himself up and rolled off of her. When he was lying next to her, he ran a hand along her side. He smiled at her. "Not bad. I think we'll keep you."

"Just as well," she replied. _We all know you can't let me go._

George was on his knees next to her. He leaned over her and kissed her. He moved to the spot between her legs where Fred had just been.

She looked up at him and thought about begging him not to, but she was afraid to test how much her consent actually mattered. _I don't dare forget-- They're dark wizards. And I did say both of them._

George touched her cheek. "Don't worry, Luna. I'll be gentle."

She sighed and reached for him. She tried to wrap her legs around him, but her legs weren't obeying her. _Too long a day._

George pushed into her slowly. Once he was in, he stayed still and started kissing her.

She ran her hands over his back and kissed back with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

He rolled his hips, pushing further in and pulling back out almost immediately.

She lifted her hips, trying to follow him, and he pushed back against her. They rocked together, and she pulled him tight against her chest.

It took less time than she feared but longer than she hoped. George, at least, didn't seem minded to try to equal Fred's feat of endurance. In the end he came, speaking into her neck. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck."

She ran her fingers through his hair and said, "George." She didn't feel that she needed to say anything else.

He levered himself up and off of her until he was once more kneeling between her legs. He looked at her then he looked at Fred. The two men exchanged a look that seemed to carry more information than words would.

Fred got to his knees, and both men looked down at her.

She offered them a smile. When they failed to return it, she pulled on the air around her, weaving invisible strands of briars. She wasn't sure it would work, but the ivy gave her hope. She was a little surprised to discover that touching the air made her feel stronger and more awake. She pulled herself backward until she was sitting with her back against the headboard and could regard Fred and George without looking up quite so far.

"We won't always treat you this well, not given that we don't need to deceive you." The wind Luna had called ruffled George's hair. He frowned, and she wondered if he had noticed. The air had been so very still before.

Luna waved her hands in little circles, wrapping the briars around Fred and George. She didn't tighten them. She still hoped she wouldn't need them.

Fred smiled. It wasn't at all a reassuring expression. "We've done terrible things, wonderfully terrible things. We will do terrible things."

"I have no illusions on that heading." Luna met Fred's eyes. "As long as it doesn't touch me or mine--" She shrugged. _I could probably kill you both._ Her eyes narrowed. _Maybe you do need to know that. On the other hand, maybe it will make you want to kill me._

George moved a little closer to her. "I'm not saying we'll treat you badly, but we like what we are."

_So did the Dark Lord._ She raised her chin. "I will not let you hurt me." She put warning into her voice. The wind blowing through the room grew stronger.

Fred laughed.

George came closer. He reached out and stroked her throat, applying just a tiny bit too much pressure. "Luna, how on earth could you stop us?"

She drew the loops of briars tight.

George fought as his out-stretched arm was pulled down tight against his body. He twisted, but Luna's constructs held. Small cuts appeared on his skin where the thorns pierced him.

"It will hurt less if you stop struggling." She looked from George to Fred and was pleased to see Fred as still as if frozen. She let the wind lift her hair. "I told you-- I'm all air." She laughed. "Air is all me."

"You can't hold us this way forever." Fred's eyes promised pain.

She sent the wind to ruffle his hair and touch his cheek. "I don't need to, do I?" She laughed again and knew she sounded mad. "I know things, and I'm more dangerous than you thought. You do things, and you're more dangerous than I thought. That snake eats its tail."

"Luna--" George's voice was gentle, soothing. "Luna, you don't have to do this."

"I wasn't going to." She put her finger to her lips. "Hush. It's a secret." She reached out and ran the same finger over George's lips.

"Luna--"

"I could take your breath. I don't think having a wand would help that."

George went utterly still under her hand.

"Yes," she said, running a hand through his hair. "If I'd wanted to kill you, I'd have done it back in the garden, but you didn't want to hurt me then." She pressed her lips against his.

He remained still, unresponsive.

She pulled back. "I didn't want to frighten you, and this evening has been mostly pleasant. If you'd just cuddled up and gone to sleep, you still wouldn't know. That's all I wanted."

"Luna--" Fred's voice pulled her attention away from George.

"Be careful," she told him. "You're not as clever with kindness as your brother. I might regret you less."

"We're not going to hurt you. We were never going to hurt you."

"Water and fire and lies." She narrowed her eyes and studied him. "Do you believe yet? I want to go to sleep cuddled between you and wake up the same way. Six years in a cell. I will not be so bound again."

"How did they hold you?" George asked, drawing her attention again.

"I wasn't air then. Professor Snape made me air. I don't think he meant to, and I don't think I'll see him to say thank you." She ran her hand across George's chest, carefully avoiding the briars. "I would have killed then. I don't want to kill now. I will if I have to, but I don't want to. It would just make the problem worse."

Fred laughed. "Better us than Charlie."

She smiled at him. "Charlie's not a dark wizard. He wouldn't have threatened me."

Fred nodded. "It was almost inevitable that we would. We warned you we weren't safe."

"You won't threaten me again." She was certain of that. She looked at Fred and tried to decide how hard it would be to get near him. "I could touch you now. You didn't want me to touch you before."

"You can touch me if you want to, Luna."

She shook her head. "Not if you don't want me to. I don't want to hurt you." She tilted her head to one side. "I am sorry-- a little-- about the thorns. That was what they wanted to be. Do they hurt a lot?"

Fred inhaled unsteadily. "Not a lot."

"Are you afraid of me? I would be." She splayed out her fingers and stroked air across his face.

He flinched.

"I'm afraid of you, too," she confessed. "I'm not sure how to get around that. We all have to sleep sometimes. It would be a lot easier for you to get away with killing me than for me to get away with killing you. No matter what happens, Draco would know. He'd lie for me, but he might not remember to. I don't know how Ron would keep Harry from finding out if you killed me, but he would protect you. I have no illusions about Ron."

George cleared his throat, drawing Luna's attention back to him. "We're not going to kill you, Luna. I promise."

"I'm not going to kill you, either." Luna laid her hand against one of George's cheeks. "I like you, dark wizards or not. But you would lie to me right now. I'd lie to me."

George leaned his head into Luna's hand. "You have to let us go eventually."

"Yes." She sighed. "I can't even get to the toilet without one of you to help me, and I'm going to need that soon. If I could get outside, I might be able to fly away, but that would mean leaving Draco."

"You can do that?"

"I don't know, but I didn't know I could do this until tonight."

He let out an unsteady breath. "I wondered why you thought you needed protecting."

"I have to play by different rules as long as I stay, and I can't leave, not while they're still hurting Draco. If they were kind to him, it might be different."

"Draco." George looked enlightened.

"And Ron and Harry and, I suppose, Hermione. That's why I still need a Weasley."

"I don't follow."

"Sooner or later, Ron's going to want another seer. The Dark Lord kept me for six years so that I could replace Draco. I expect Ron will look closely at my children. Unless they're Weasleys. I don't know if my children will be able to fly." She leaned in close and brushed her lips against George's cheek. "I know this much about you and Fred-- You would do _anything_ to protect your family. I knew that much before I knew what anything meant to you."

"You're asking us to protect you from _Ron_?"

"Do you think he's not dangerous?"

George just stared at her.

"Luna--"

She turned to look at Fred and frowned. "This would be so much easier if you were closer together."

Fred shrugged. The movement made little cuts appear on his arms and torso. He ignored them, so she did, too.

Her legs felt stronger, so she decided to see if she could get closer to him. As she moved away, she felt George exhale as if he'd been holding his breath. She looked back at him and smiled. She suspected it wasn't a reassuring expression.

"Let one of us go," Fred said. "We can get you to the toilet. You'll still have a hostage."

She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. "Then one of you would have a wand. I doubt you'd balk at the Imperius curse."

He looked away.

She hooked her fingers around his chin and pulled him back to face her. "It's no fun being powerless, even if it's temporary. And it _is_ temporary. We all know that. It's just that you don't know what I'll do in the meantime. I don't _want_ to hurt you. I'm not a Death Eater." She leaned in closer. "I'm not even a wizard who's done terrible wonderful things. I'm just Loony Lovegood."

"We never called you that."

She blinked. "I'm not sure you ever called me anything at all. We don't have much past to build on. No reason for trust."

"Eventually, you're going to have to."

"I know." She sat back on her heels. "I can't stop thinking what the Death Eaters would have done with the two of you. I'd have hated watching it, but I would have. I wouldn't have cried, either. I stopped doing that after the first year. They'd have hurt you in ways you can't imagine-- Or maybe you can. I don't know what you've done yourselves. You always were creative." She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. "I can hear you screaming. I can hear everyone screaming even when I remind myself that it's over." She thought she saw the ghost of pity in his eyes, but if that's what it was, it vanished almost immediately.

Fred tried to raise his hand. More little wounds appeared on his skin. After a second, he stilled. "It _is_ over, Luna."

She shook her head, and tears came to her eyes. "It's never going to be over because now there's you, and I can't keep you, and I can't let you go." She inched forward and laid her head against his shoulder. Briars pricked at her until she smoothed them out.

He gave a shuddering breath and leaned his head on top of hers.

She ran her hands along his body, dissolving the briars.

His arms came up to hold her. "You're very broken, Luna."

She shuddered. "I can't be. The Dark Lord said he didn't want me to be, so I'm not."

"The Dark Lord was an idiot." He stroked her back. "Now let George go."

She shook her head. "I don't want to."

"I know, but you have to."

"I'm the only one who can, you mean. I don't think you could cut my briars with a knife, and I don't think they'll disappear until I tell them they can go."

"Yes, Luna. Now let him go."

She sighed. "Are you going to kill me?"

"I don't expect so. You're too interesting."

"I didn't want anyone to know that I'm dangerous."

His arms tightened around her. "You might have said sooner. Then we wouldn't have thought we were forcing you."

She laughed without really meaning it. "And you wouldn't have threatened me."

"We might still have done that. We're not really that bright." There was a smile in his voice. She didn't trust it, but she could hear it there. "Now let George go."

She closed her eyes and thought about George. She sent the wind to circle him and asked it to take the briars.

After a moment, she heard George moving behind her, and she tried not to think about what he might be doing.

Fred continued stroking her back.

Then George said, "Stupify!" and she felt the spell hit her.

"That's kinder than I expected," she said. The air went still, and darkness took her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Torture of Lucius Malfoy.

When Luna woke, she was lying on something hard. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing even and asked the air to tell her where she was. She thought she was wearing her robe, but she didn't seem to be wearing anything under it. Her toes were freezing.

"Luna, I can tell you're awake. The breeze is a dead give away."

Luna queried the sylphs to find out which twin was speaking, and they told her it was George. She opened her eyes and wiggled her toes and said, "You might have given me socks."

The room was small, perhaps half the size of the one where the Death Eaters had most recently imprisoned her, but the air seemed to think it was bigger, that the wall opposite her wasn't really a wall. She wasn't sure if that simply meant that air could pass through or if it meant that she could pass through as well. The space beyond was a corridor with many rooms, many of them occupied, off of it. Someone, she assumed Fred, stood just beyond the wall that wasn't with a drawn wand. Something the right shape to be her wheeled chair sat beside him.

She lay on a wooden, slatted bench attached to the wall. George sat on a wooden chair that looked like it was about to collapse under his weight. He was off to one side, and she guessed that was so that Fred would have a clear shot if he needed to cast a spell at her.

"Yes, well," George said, "I'm afraid we didn't think of socks. Sorry about that." He didn't sound particularly sorry. He appeared to be fully dressed, down to socks and shoes. She couldn't see his wand.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position with her legs dangling off the edge of the bench. "What now?"

George shrugged. "We're improvising." He studied her as if looking at her would give him answers.

She began a cat's cradle with strings made of air. "Old answers don't work under new circumstances." She hummed and focused on her fingers.

"Luna, what do you want?"

"I thought I was clear about that." The sylphs pulled the cat's cradle from her fingers, and she took it back, changing its shape. "It just doesn't come with permission to hurt me."

"Ron's not dangerous."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. She blinked once. "Ron will win. No matter what it costs. That's why he won't care what you've done. Why are you in here and Fred out there?"

He glanced at the wall that wasn't.

She shrugged. "You didn't stop air. We'd never be able to breathe if you did. I have the impression that you like to breathe."

He laughed a little shakily. "We thought," he said, "that you liked me better. You might be less likely to attack me."

She considered that. "You're not threatening me. Not right now." She wiggled her fingers to show the sylphs that she was ready for them to take the next step with the cat's cradle. "The wall and the drawn wand aren't friendly, but I'm in no more danger than I have been any time this evening. You're neither of you very nice, but I'm not either." She tilted her head to one side. "I didn't want to scare you."

"You didn't want to scare _us_?"

"Well, I did. Scare you, I mean. I was hoping not to. It seemed safer." She bit her lip. The next step of the cat's cradle was a tricky one. She wasn't sure she could get it right. "But you scared me first."

"If you weren't frightened before then--" George shook his head.

"I knew I could stop you if I had to. I just wasn't sure what to do with you after. Just like you're not sure what to do with me."

His attention was fixed on her hands. "What _are_ you doing?"

She smiled. "Cat's cradle. It works ever so much better now that I've got someone to play with." Her smile faltered. "I used to do it a lot when I was... there, but there wasn't anyone to take the next step, not unless Draco was around, and they didn't let us see each other very often. It was a lot of time over six years, but it wasn't very often."

He looked at her and didn't seem to have anything to say.

She looked at the wall. The air couldn't see it, but she rather thought that it would stop her body leaving the room. "A cell isn't very friendly."

"We're not trying to be friendly."

"Eventually, we'll have to be if we're not going to kill each other." She undid the cat's cradle and started winding the thread of air around her fingers. "I could. You'll have to live with that. You could, and I'll have to live with that, too." She sighed. "You have no idea what to do with me, either, do you?"

He smiled. This time it looked genuine. "Not the slightest notion, no. You can't just disappear."

"Is that who's in the other cells? People who have 'disappeared?'"

"They're test subjects. Mostly Death Eaters."

_Mostly._ "And nobody cares." She met his eyes. "How is it the entire world doesn't know you're dark wizards?"

"We got here one step at a time."

"Ah." She nodded. "And one step never seems very far. Except when one can barely walk." She looked him up and down. "You needn't worry so much, either of you. The kissing part of things was very nice. I wouldn't mind doing it again if the threatening me part of things were left out."

One corner of his mouth turned up. "I think you'll find we don't repeat mistakes."

"Then why," she asked gently, "threaten me with a cell? I'm not stupid enough not to see that it's a threat."

He rubbed the back of his head. "We wanted to limit the... damage you could do if you woke up angry."

_You haven't seen me angry yet._ "If _they_ couldn't make me angry, I doubt you could. I suppose you might take that as a challenge. Some people would." She asked the air what Fred was doing and was pleased to discover that he'd lowered his wand. _That's right. I'm not a threat._ "I wasn't actually sure I'd wake up at all."

He looked away.

_So you thought about it. And you didn't really think I'd wake up angry. Neither of you would have been in here if you really thought that._ She started the cat's cradle again. "Terror and tears and knights on white horses. I'm not a windmill, but you might be dragons."

He blinked.

She smiled. "Well, you might be. You've fire enough." _They thought I would cry and cling. If I'd thought to, it might have frightened them less. They're not the Dark Lord, so it wouldn't be the same sort of dangerous._ She met his eyes. "Six years of living at a madman's whim. Whatever else you are, you're not that."

"No, I suppose we're not." He watched her fingers move.

"I built walls around fear and anger and grief and compassion. Indifference or a smile makes better armor." She wasn't sure he would understand. "If I'm broken, I'm useless. If I'm useless, I'm dead. Death might come fast, or it might come by inches. I had a promise that the war would end, so I held on."

He stood up, walked over, and sat down beside her. "It is over, Luna." He put an arm around her shoulders.

_A good sign._ She unraveled the cat's cradle, letting the string dissolve back into air. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "So everyone keeps telling me. I'm just not sure how long the shadow is. I don't think any of us are in the sun yet. That might blind us or burn us." She turned her head to press her face against his shoulder. "You're all strangers wearing the faces of people I used to know."

He stroked her hair. "I suppose we have come a long way. One step at a time."

"I'm so far behind, and I'm not sure I want to follow." _But I don't see other paths. Not yet. I wonder if Draco does?_ She yawned. "The night has been longer than the day."

He laughed. "It has been... eventful. Do you still want to sleep with us? Just sleep, I mean. We can find you a bed somewhere else. Not in here."

"Will you mind that my toes are cold?" _I'm used to alone. It's safer, but it's staying where I am._ "You still can't let me go."

His arm tightened around her. "But now we know something about you that you'd rather people not know."

She supposed that might work. "Secrets whispered to the wind."

"That doesn't seem like the safest thing to do with a secret any more."

"Safe enough for me." She allowed a little smugness into her voice.

He laughed. "I think it's time to let us out now, Fred," he said in a loud voice.

The wall that wasn't vanished.

Luna thought that Fred looked just the tiniest bit disappointed, and she wondered what he'd hoped would happen. She suspected that she wouldn't have enjoyed it, whatever it was. Having no idea what else to do, she smiled at him.

Fred ignored her and said to George, "You're sure?"

George shrugged. "For something that started out as one night's fun-- Well. It's not as if any of us has much choice."

"Some people say choice is an illusion." Luna pulled away from George. "Draco says there's nothing but choices. It's just that most of them are bad." She wiggled her toes and tried to find some bit of air that was warmer than what was immediately around her, but as far as she could reach, the air was chilly.

"The repercussions wouldn't be that bad," Fred said.

_Oh. They want me to be afraid of Fred. I expect that means they want me to trust George. How's that supposed to work when I shouldn't always know who's who? I suppose either of them can play either role, depending on what they want from me right then._ Luna hummed and started a cat's cradle. This time, she made the strings visible, a pretty shade of blue. After a moment, she said, "I can do that if that's what you really want, but it seems unnecessarily complicated. Will it be more fun for you?"

The sylphs took the string off her fingers.

Fred and George both stared.

Luna carefully inserted her fingers into the pattern of the thread, lifted and pulled. "I'm not very good at afraid any more. There's been so much to fear that I just stopped." She pursed her lips. "Prudent, I can probably manage. Cautious, perhaps. Afraid is harder."

Fred started laughing.

George seemed to be holding back laughter. "Prudent-- Luna, you are not prudent."

"I outlived the Dark Lord," she pointed out. _I expect I'll outlive you._ She held up the cat's cradle for the sylphs, and they took it.

George touched her arm. "You almost didn't."

"That was by choice." She considered that. "And dying was rather glorious. I don't know if I'll ever chase lightning again. I expect it's not safe with a body." She rubbed one of her legs. "Bodies are inconvenient."

"Leaving yours behind permanently would solve several problems." Fred didn't look like he meant her to take him seriously.

She did anyway. "I expect it would be even harder to get people to listen to me if I didn't have a body. Besides--" She smiled brightly. "I don't want to make this too easy for you." She took the cat's cradle back from the sylphs.

"How long can you keep that going?" George reached out and plucked at the string.

_He's seeing if it's real._ "Infinite," she told him. "It circles back upon itself. I suppose even the sylphs would get bored with it eventually. They're more patient about staying with me than I expected. I suppose it helps that there are billions of them. None of them need stay long." _I am never alone._ You _are never alone. Never mind that the sylphs aren't good at understanding humans. You don't need to know that._ She yawned, using her arm to cover it so as not to disturb the cat's cradle. "But morning is getting closer, and we're still a long way from sleep."

"Is that what held us? Sylphs?" George's expression was sharp.

She smiled at him. _It's not that simple._ "No. That was me shaping air." She considered. "I'm not saying they _couldn't_ , but they'd have to want to, and they don't tend to think you're very important." She shook her head. "They might have if I'd asked, but I didn't need to." _They only know which one of you is which because they're sticking close to you. They can't tell Harry from Hermione from Ron yet._ The reports she'd been getting back from Draco's prison weren't as clear about who was doing what as she'd hoped. _Could I teach the sylphs English? Would that help? At least the room is bigger and kinder than I feared. And now that we know where it is, the sylphs can get in any time._

Both of them were looking at her as if she were a puzzle to be solved.

She started humming a lullaby. She let go the cat's cradle and started tracing designs in the air, playing with color. The sylphs thought this an excellent new game and added a dynamic element to what she created. She thought perhaps they were getting tired of cat's cradle after all.

The twins watched her for several minutes without saying anything.

Finally, she sighed. "I'm really not that profound or complicated. I just don't look at anything from the same angle you do." She looked from one of them to the other. "It is getting late, and this bench isn't very comfortable. If you're not going to kill me or lock me in here, I'd really like to go to bed." She wiped her designs from the air. "Since I can't walk, that means either you have to bring my chair over here or to pick me up and carry me over to it."

They exchanged one of those looks that Luna knew carried an entire conversation. Finally, they both shrugged.

"Which one of us would you like to have carry you?" George asked.

She met his eyes and shook her head. "I'm not playing favorites. I'm not that kind of foolish."

George nodded and turned back to his brother. Without saying anything, they played rock, paper, scissors, and Fred won.

Fred handed his wand to George then pulled a second wand out of his pocket and handed that to George as well.

George stood up, leaving Luna alone on the bench.

Fred bent and lifted her. He didn't seem in any way burdened by her weight.

She put her arms around his neck and leaned her head against his shoulder.

They took longer getting to her chair than she thought the distance warranted, but she decided not to complain. _This will work better if they trust me enough to touch me. To let me touch them._

Once they were out of the cell, Luna looked up and down the corridor. From here, all of the cells looked like they were open. "We can see in, but they can't see out?"

"Not unless we allow them to," George said. "Mostly we don't. Isolation does interesting things."

She shuddered. "Yes." _And I suppose that, when you do bring them out, it isn't just to make them watch whatever it is you're doing. No. I can't afford compassion. I haven't been able to for years, and that hasn't changed now._

"You're on the outside now," Fred reminded her as he deposited her in her chair.

_Still isolated, though._ She shifted a little, trying to find the most comfortable position in which to sit. The sylphs danced around her, and she raised her hands to feel their passage. _Well, not entirely._ She smiled. "Air goes everywhere."

Fred gave her a look that told her that he had no idea what she meant.

She shrugged, unwilling to explain.

As they pushed her chair down the corridor, she looked right and left, seeing how many of the prisoners she recognized. Many of them were familiar to her, and a number were people who she had thought were dead. Knowing the things they'd done, she couldn't bring herself to feel much sympathy. _Not even for the ones I was in school with. I don't know how much choice they had about becoming Death Eaters, but I do know at least some of what they did after._

"Can they hear us?" she asked softly.

"Not unless we want them to," one of the twins replied. "And we can't hear them unless we want to. There's not as much screaming as at Azkaban, but some of them won't shut up."

_They wanted me to see this. There are empty cells closer to the door. They're making a point._ She wondered if she could hear through the barriers if she wanted to. _The air on the other side must know what sounds are in it. Experiments for another time._ She yawned.

The occupant of the next cell on the right caught her attention. She pulled herself up straight and glared into the cell. Without really thinking about it, she extended her hands, palms upward, and curled her fingers toward the palms, pulling on the air.

Inside the cell, Lucius Malfoy went rigid and clawed at his throat.

_For Draco. For Ginny. For me._

"Luna--" One of the twins put a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you saying he doesn't deserve this?" She pulled a little harder.

Malfoy fell to his knees.

"Not that. We just won't let him die so easily," said the one with the hand on her shoulder.

"He's not like the others, not just a test subject," said the other. "It's personal. For Ginny. We remember who gave her the diary."

She turned and looked up at them. "I won't kill him. I just want him to know I could. Even if he can't see me." She shrugged. "It takes minutes to die from want of air. It hasn't been _that_ long."

"If you want him to know--" The one on the right raised his wand, pointed into the cell and murmured something. "He can see and hear you now, Luna. He's a little distracted, though, so you might want to let him breathe. At least for a while."

Luna was a little sorry not to hear the spell to make a prisoner see and hear out. She didn't have a wand, but she still hoped that might be remedied. She released the air in Malfoy's lungs and said, "Good evening, Mr. Malfoy." She smiled with nothing remotely friendly about it.

Malfoy didn't see her smile because he collapsed forward, gasping. He shuddered as he took one breath after another. After several breaths, he looked up. There was no surprise on his face, but Luna rather thought he didn't see her at all.

"He's too busy looking at the two of you," she observed.

"That's because he knows what comes next." The twin on her left raised his wand, pointing at Malfoy, and said calmly, almost casually, "Crucio."

Luna flinched.

Malfoy writhed on the floor of his cell. Luna assumed he was screaming-- people usually did under the Cruciatus-- but she couldn't hear a sound.

The other twin laughed. "It's not even really illegal any more. Ron, Harry, and Hermione are making the laws, and they haven't said a single word about the unforgivables."

"They probably thought it was assumed," Luna told him. _Though I don't know. I don't know them very well any more. And probably everyone used the killing curse during the war._

The twin who'd been talking poked the one holding the spell on Malfoy. "Give it a rest, George. Luna had something she wanted to say to Malfoy, and he can't hear her while he's screaming."

"Oh, all right." George lowered his wand.

Malfoy lay still, panting and gasping. After a moment, he dragged himself back to his knees. He kept his head down and placed his hands on his thighs. His shoulders were tight, almost hunched.

Luna was certain he expected more pain, but she couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry for him.

"Very good," George said. "I'm glad you've learned that lesson."

"Luna has something to say to you," Fred said.

Malfoy continued to look at the floor.

Fred flicked his wand sideways, and Malfoy's head snapped to one side as if he'd been struck. "Look at her."

Malfoy raised his eyes until he was looking at Luna.

"I'm not helpless any more," she told him. _And all three of them need to know that._ She made herself smile then crooked a finger and pulled on the air in Malfoy's lungs.

He jerked and put his hands to his throat. His mouth opened and closed as he tried desperately to inhale.

She released the air, gave him a moment to breathe, then pulled again. This time, she kept her hands still. She wasn't sure it would work without moving her hands, but she thought she needed to know if immobilizing her hands would render her helpless. _And Fred and George need to know that it won't._

This time, Malfoy kept his hands down. He obviously fought to draw air in, but he still had, she thought, some pride.

_Or maybe he hopes I will kill him. That would be kinder._ She released her hold on the air and let him breathe again. "I'm not that kind," she told him. "I lost that some time during the years when you wouldn't allow me to look away. You and the others stripped me of who I wanted to be." She spread her hands wide. "All the flowers died." She turned to look up at Fred and George. "I don't want to look at him any longer. Do whatever you're going to do. I just don't want to watch." _Show me that you're not them._

Without saying a word, they turned her chair so that her back was to Malfoy's cell.

She hummed a song she'd learned from her mother when she was small. She traced flowers in the air. All of them were dead. She almost couldn't hear when the twins said, "Crucio!" again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit noncon, no violence. Memories of past rape. Reference to possible (but not certain) past incest. Disordered eating issues.

"Ron--"

Ron looked up from letter he was reading to see Hermione in the doorway. "Uruguay might have a wand maker willing to move here."

"That's good news, at least." She came further into the room. She looked around and, seeing that he was alone, came around his desk and kissed him.

_I wouldn't mind kissing her even if there was someone else in here._ He smiled at her. Then his expression became serious. "You sound like you have bad news."

"Not exactly..." Hermione looked away. "I just wanted to ask-- Are you still getting what you need from Draco?"

Ron wasn't sure why she'd want to know, but he gave it careful consideration. "He seems more... tired. He still focuses when I present him with information, and he's still clear-- well as much as he can be-- when he tells me what might happen and why."

She nodded. "That's good." She pulled up a chair, moving it to Ron's side of the desk, and sat. She leaned against Ron's shoulder. "I can let things go a little longer if he's still cooperating."

"Let things go?"

She sighed. "I don't think he's trying to kill himself. Not really. It's just a little rebellion. I've been expecting something of the sort for a while. There's so little of his life that he controls, and we're giving him a lot of time alone, time to think."

Ron leaned his head on top of hers. "What's he doing?"

"It's what he's not doing. He's not eating. Well, not eating much. He still eats something, a little bit. It's just enough of a change that Vesky thought she ought to tell me. Let me know if it starts to interfere with him being useful. I expect he'll eat if we order him to. He'll do anything if we order him to. I just don't want to have to spend the time on him that that would require. And I think it would damage him. Not that he's not beyond damaged already."

Ron frowned. "I'm relying on his judgment. I can't get into his head the way Snape could to see what the possibilities are for myself, to help him sort real from false."

"Do we need to find Snape? I know Harry's looking, but I had the impression you weren't."

"Hunting Snape is a waste of resources, and... I think we owe him that much, to leave him alone. We never trusted him, but he was useful as hell during the war." Ron ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, I won't stop Harry looking, and I won't protect Snape from Harry. I just-- As long as he's not giving us trouble, why bother?" He considered the rest of it. _Would he be helpful in dealing with Draco? Maybe in exchange for protection from Harry. Maybe._ "Not Snape. We'd never be able to trust him. Who do we trust who knows legilimency?"

"Say, rather, who do we trust at all."

He sighed and turned his head so that his face pressed into her hair. "There is that." _It's a very short list, mostly family. Everybody else has a different agenda._ "What does Draco want? We don't seem to have considered that."

"I don't think he knows. That may be part of the problem. I suppose he wants Harry to stop hurting him. He's also lonely." She took his hand in hers. "I'm not sure that visit with Luna was good for her, but it was good for him, even with how it ended." She hesitated. "I think-- I think he needs some physical affection. I'm not sure how best to go about that. I’d give him a kitten, but I don’t know what Harry would do.” She sighed and shook her head. After a moment, she went on, “We also need to let him see his mother. There's a Pureblood spell on her that only he can break-- well, him or his father, and I'm a lot more willing to trust Draco with a wand for a minute or so."

Hoping to make her laugh, Ron gave an exaggerated shudder. "Lucius Malfoy with a wand!"

She snorted, a little puff of air that was almost a laugh.

_Good enough._ "Do you want to take him to her or her to him? I know we said nobody but us and the house elves in there, but--" He shrugged. "She's got to be picturing the worst. She knows what's happened to the other Death Eaters, what we still could do to her."

"We should do it before he loses much weight, or she'll think we're deliberately starving him. I don't know what she could do about it, just-- She's less likely to make trouble if she thinks we're better for all of her children. Neville says she's terrified the younger two will be killed for not being good enough. Apparently Voldemort did that. She doesn't believe yet that we don't."

"I'm still not sure about letting her run around free-- well more or less free-- even without a wand. I'm inclined to think we should have given her to Fred and George, just to be sure."

Hermione pulled away, sitting up straight. "Either you trust my evaluation or you don't. As long as she still has her children, at least the younger two, she won't give us any trouble. And it's better for those children if she stays with them. Besides, she can still have more children. We may need to reclaim some of Fred and George's research subjects just for that."

"Narcissa Malfoy, I will give you. The people Fred and George have-- They're dangerous, and we don't have other facilities to hold them. It was hard enough to find a place to keep Draco." Ron started tapping his fingers on his desk. "Also-- You may be able to talk Narcissa into it. I doubt most of the rest of them will be willing. Do you care?" _I wish I thought you did. Do I care? I should, but, really, I don't._ He turned to look at her.

"I don't see that we have much choice. We're not likely to draw many immigrants. You say an invasion's coming; children won't help with that. They won't be old enough, but if we can get past that--" She shrugged. "We may be dealing with crisis after crisis, but we're planning for the long term."

_We may not have a long term. She knows that. I don't think Harry realizes it, but Hermione knows._ He sighed. "I wish we understood the Interdiction, how they did it, I mean. If we could do something similar, we'd only have to worry about what the Muggles might do."

"If wishes were horses," Hermione said. "But research is my area. When I have time. Running a country is more work than I thought it would be, and that's saying something."

Ron looked at the unanswered letters on his desk. He ran his hand through his hair. "Yes." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't suppose Harry has any ideas? We've seen him do extraordinary things just because he didn't know he couldn't."

"It can't hurt to ask. It would give him something more constructive to do than hunting spies that may or may not exist."

 

*****

Draco was fairly sure that Weasley was the only one who'd visited him during the last several days. He wasn't sure what had happened to Potter. He'd never gone this long between visits, not even when he had been chasing down Death Eaters and dark artifacts. Draco couldn't help looking into the possibilities, trying to figure out what had changed. He wanted simply to enjoy the respite, but he was afraid that he was missing something important.

_Weasley hasn't told me what Potter's doing. For some reason, he doesn't want me to know or doesn't think it's important. Does he think I won't notice? I suppose I might not except that I don't hurt. Has there been another time when I didn't hurt?_ He was afraid that not hurting would make the pain worse the next time Potter did visit. Draco couldn't see exactly when Potter would come back, but he had no doubts that Potter would.

Draco stared at the book he was trying to read without really seeing it. Usually, books were good as a distraction, a way to keep from thinking too much. This particular book was a Muggle mystery. Most of the books Granger allowed him were Muggle fiction. He supposed they were easier to come by than Wizarding books. _No one in the Wizarding world has had time or resources to print books for years now._ He preferred mysteries, but Granger seemed to like to give him science fiction. He suspected that she was trying to get him to think about Muggle science. _That she's trying to meld Muggle science with magic is so strong a possibility that I can't see many might bes where she doesn't do it. Will they conquer the world? They've got Granger and the Weasley twins, and they've got me, and I'm not trying to stop them._ He closed his eyes for a moment. _I'm not going to try to stop them._

He put down the book and covered his face with his hands. _Even if-- when-- Potter comes back, this is better than the Death Eaters. He hurts me, but it's not beyond bearing. And Weasley and Granger aren't really interested in torturing me. No, they just watch while Potter does. To keep him from... going too far. But better isn't good._

He shuddered and wondered if the house elf watching him would tell Granger if he cried. He knew there really was an elf watching because, if he spoke aloud, asking for something, an elf-- not always the same elf-- would appear either to give it to him or to tell him he couldn't have it. _But it feels like I'm alone, and it's so strange to be alone. Who'd have thought I'd miss having Professor Snape in my head? I'd have given up without him. Have I given up now?_ He rather thought he had, and he almost hated himself for it. _At least when I was_ there _, I had a goal. I wanted Voldemort dead and the Death Eaters gone. Now what?_

He lowered his hands and looked around the room. He knew the place as it really was by now, knew to discard any possibility that didn't include the reality of his prison. Compared to where he had been, it was unimaginably luxury. _I even have clothes. Plural. Three sets of robes. Pajamas. Plenty of underwear and socks. Slippers. No shoes, but what would I do with shoes?_

He pulled his legs up onto the chair and curled his body down to meet them. He buried his head and let the tears come. _Even if the elf tells Granger, what's she going to do?_ The possibilities jostled each other in his mind, but he very deliberately refused to look at them. _I don't want to think about Granger or Potter or Weasley. I don’t. But how can I avoid it? They're all I have._

He cried because he missed Professor Snape. He cried because he missed his mother. He cried for the life he might have had. He cried for all the terrible things that had been done to him and for all of the terrible things that would be done to him. He cried because he couldn't remember what sunlight felt like and because he'd never fly again. He cried for the children he would have and never see. He cried because he wasn't sure anything was ever going to get better.

When the tears stopped coming, he wasn't sure what to do. Crying hadn't changed anything except that now he had a headache and desperately needed to blow his nose. He made himself get up and take care of blowing his nose. Then he splashed water on his face. He hoped nobody would come into his room until his face looked normal again. _Not that they'd say anything, any of them, because it doesn't matter. I could spend all of my time crying, and it wouldn't matter. Well, I suppose it would be harder for me to tell Weasley what he wants to know. And it's not like I don't cry when Potter's here. It's how he knows he's hurting me._

He still didn't know what to do with himself. The thought of returning to his book as if nothing had happened repelled him. _But what else is there? I suppose I could go to bed, but I don't want to do that either._ He walked around the room, touching the tapestries, feeling the reality of the walls behind them. He hesitated when he came to the wards around the door. He'd never tested them to see if they'd hurt him. _It's been enough to know that I can't go through them unless one of them opens the way._ He closed his eyes and tried to think what he'd do if he could get through the wards. "I'd go outside, walk in the sun, touch the grass." He bowed his head. _And then I'd come back here. There's nowhere else I could go._

He raised his hand with his fingers extended. He inhaled and held his breath then brushed his fingers across the wards. He felt a little shock on contact but nothing that registered as terribly painful. Apart from that, he felt a smooth surface, one that his fingers slipped easily across without finding purchase.

_Well, now I know._ Draco turned away. _I should be happy with what I have. It could be so much worse. I know that. I've seen what this could be. I've seen what they could do to me._ He closed his eyes and pushed those possibilities away. He didn't think seeing just how bad it could be would help. _I might start thinking I'm actually there._

He went back to the chair where he'd started and covered his face with his hands again. _There's absolutely nothing I can do. Nothing at all._

******

Draco's days all started the same way, with a house elf bringing him breakfast. He was sensitive enough to the presence of other people that, even if the elf was quiet (and not all of them bothered to be), this woke him. Breakfast always came early enough that not much light came through the skylight, so the first thing Draco did on getting out of bed was to turn on a light. Then he got dressed because he'd learned that Weasley would arrive no more than twenty minutes after breakfast did. Weasley didn't care if Draco was dressed, but Draco felt more able to deal with him and his demands when he had clothes on.

This particular morning, after getting dressed and looking at his memory book to remind himself of the truths he needed, Draco picked at his food. He was hungry, but he found he didn't want anything on his plate. He suspected he could ask for something else, but that seemed like too much trouble. _Not to mention that I don't know what I want. But I should eat something. I don't want to get too weak to walk again._

Weasley's arrival was a welcome excuse to push his plate away and declare himself done. Like Granger, Weasley didn't care if Draco knelt as long as he obeyed promptly, so Draco stayed in his chair.

"Good morning, Draco," Weasley said as he pulled out the chair opposite where Draco sat.

_When did he stop calling me 'Malfoy'? Him and Granger, though I don't see her as often. I think. Does it mean anything? Well, it's sure as hell not an invitation to call him 'Ron.' I'm not that stupid._ Draco ducked his head, acknowledging the greeting. He knew Weasley didn't expect words in response. He folded his hands and waited.

"There's not much today," Weasley said as he sat down. He passed a folded sheet of paper to Draco. "Uruguay has offered us a wand maker. We need her, but I'm not sure I trust the offer."

Draco unfolded the paper and discovered that it was a letter. He scanned it quickly and used the information there as a starting point to search the possibilities. After a moment, he said, "They're lying about her credentials, but she's more competent than they think she is. She's used to working with things we don't have here, but she can adapt, depending on what you can get. She's not sure she wants to come here, and she will have one foot out the door for a while." He sighed. _He won't like this._ "Your best bet to keep her is to have someone romance her. Bill, if you can talk him into it. She'll really like his daughters." _And his tragic history, but I'm not going to say that._ "She's at least not a spy."

Weasley looked thoughtful then nodded. He took the letter back and offered Draco a scroll. "Hermione says that they've figured out how to make crude oil out of seawater in large enough quantities to be useful to the Muggles as an export."

Draco started to unroll the scroll and found that it was a closely written arithmetical explanation of the process in question. _This isn't going to give me anything._ He set down the scroll, letting it roll itself back up. _What does this do? I don't understand Muggles well enough to-- No. Right now, we're dependent on the Muggles for food and other supplies. Look at that. Yes._ "The Muggles are desperate for trade goods to avoid shortages." _Which means we're facing shortages ourselves._ He frowned. "You'll have to find a way to make it look like the oil is coming from some sort of usual Muggle source. Not just for the Muggles. If other Wizarding governments realize you can do this, they'll fight to get it from you." He shuddered as he looked at what would happen if the secret weren't kept. He tapped the scroll. "It's a gamble. You need this, badly, but it has to stay a secret. That's possible, for a few years, for long enough to find alternatives. Oil will only be useful, for trade, for another decade or two."

Draco raised his hands, tracing possibilities. He hesitated. _That's the best possibility, but I don't know what it means or if Granger and her Muggles can do it._ He cleared his throat. "Tell Granger that she needs to pursue 'self-sustaining cold fusion.' I think she'll understand what that means." _Or know someone who understands. I certainly don't._ "That's the best option. Selling it to other Wizarding governments so that their Muggles can use it would buy you years, more years than I thought you'd have."

Weasley frowned and scribbled a note. He reached across the table to take back the scroll. "That's everything for today. If you see anything else, tell the house elves, and they'll let me know."

Draco nodded. Weasley always said that. _Probably afraid I'll forget. I forget so damn much._ He wanted to close his eyes and rub his face, but he didn't dare take that much of his attention off of Weasley. He had the uneasy feeling that there was something more coming.

Weasley stood up and looked down at Draco. "Fair warning-- Harry will be back tomorrow. I don't know if it will be Harry and me or Harry and Hermione, but it will be one or the other."

Draco shuddered. _I hope it's you. I'd rather be raped than beaten._ He could see the possibilities going either way. "Thank you for the warning," he managed to say. _Why bother warning me? It's definitely unkind._

Weasley smiled. "Something you'll like better-- Hermione will be bringing your mother by today. Something about a spell to be lifted. That'll happen around lunch time. We thought the two of you could have a meal together. That'll be nice for both of you."

_When was the last time I saw Mother?_ Draco tightened his hands into fists, trying not to react. After a moment, he said, "Thank you for that, at least." He looked around the room. _She won't know-- shouldn't know-- what they do to me in here. It all looks so much better than where I was before. Did she ever see that?_ He sorted through might have beens and couldn't find one where his mother had seen him in a Death Eater cell. _But someone probably told her._ He thought he remembered his Aunt Bellatrix in his cell, from time to time, telling him news about his mother and his sister and brother. _If she told me things, she probably told Mother things. But not everything. Please, not everything._ "Will-- Will Granger stay the whole time?" _Not that we'll have privacy anyway, but..._

"I don't know." Weasley shrugged. "She's got a lot to do."

_Which means she might not stay. Please let her go away. Please._ Draco closed his eyes. The possibilities cut him. There was a chance his mother wouldn't be glad to see him, to be reminded of what had happened to him. _Not to mention that I'm going to be working a spell on her that will mean she'll be expected to--_ He cut off the thought, unwilling to think of his mother forced into sex. _She's always been faithful to Father._

"Draco," Weasley said.

Startled, Draco opened his eyes and looked up. _What--?_ He swallowed hard as he saw what was probably going to happen next. _At least he's not going to hurt me. But why--?_

Draco was rising to his feet even as Weasley said, "Come here."

Draco came closer to Weasley than he would normally and waited. He started looking at might have beens, trying to see if he could find something to explain what Weasley was about to do. _Oh, something Granger said. She thinks I need someone to be_ kind _to me, to show 'physical affection' to me. I guess Weasley thinks that means--_

Weasley put his arms around Draco, pulling him close. He started rubbing Draco's back.

Draco couldn't help stiffening, but he forced himself to relax and lean against Weasley. _If this is what he wants... I can do anything he wants me to do. Whatever that may be. I don't have any choice._

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. His fingers twitched as he sorted possibilities. _Oh. If I say no, he will listen. Probably. Not today but eventually._ Saying no didn't change much. Weasley would still come every morning, would still ask Draco questions, would still expect Draco to suck him off and then would watch while Potter fucked Draco. _What does saying yes do? He'll kiss me and caress me and fuck me and try to make it_ nice _for me. Nothing else changes. Except--_ There was a glimmer of a possibility further along. He inhaled sharply. _Yes. For that, I can smile while Weasley fucks me, can pretend I'm enjoying it. Maybe I will even enjoy it. He won't be trying to hurt me, and it wasn't so bad when Professor Snape-- No._ He shuddered as he fought to suppress those memories. _There was no choice then. For either of us._

Weasley released Draco and stepped back. He looked a little uncertain.

Draco forced a smile even as he wrapped his arms around his body. "You didn't hurt me," he said. He put as much uncertainty as he could muster into the words. "Why didn't you hurt me?"

Weasley touched Draco's face. "Not everything is about hurting you, Draco. It's not even all about how useful you can be."

_Bullshit. How stupid do you think I am?_ Draco allowed himself to flinch as Weasley touched him. "The last time someone hugged me--" _Was Luna._ He let his voice break. "--I think it was Aunt Bellatrix. She used to come in and-- and _cuddle_ me. I suppose I should be glad she didn't want to fuck me. Nobody would have said anything if she did." _Just like nobody will say anything when you do._ He looked at the floor.

Weasley inhaled sharply. He hooked his fingers under Draco's chin and tugged until Draco was looking at him again. Weasley looked a little sick. "Did your father--?" He shook his head.

Draco took a deep breath. _I don't want to think about that._ "I don't know," he admitted after a moment. "There are possibilities where he did and possibilities where he didn't. The difference isn't enough for me to be able to tell which was real." _I don't want to know. I used to love him, and he's still my father._ He decided to take a risk and pulled away from Weasley, turning his back on the other man. _Let's see how far you take your intention to be kind to me._ His shoulders shook.

"I'm sorry, Draco." Weasley's voice was gentler than Draco was used to hearing from him. "I shouldn't have asked."

_No, you shouldn't have. Not if you don't want to be cruel._ Draco wanted to turn around to look at Weasley. Standing with his back to the other man seemed terribly dangerous. _I don't know what he's going to do next._ Unable to think what else to do, he asked, "Is Aunt Bellatrix dead?" It had always been very unlikely that she'd outlive Voldemort, but Draco didn't know. He wasn't sure what he hoped for. _They wouldn't be kind to her, especially not with Longbottom still alive._

"We burned her body with Voldemort's." Weasley sounded pleased about it. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Then Weasley said, "I'm sorry for your loss."

_No you're not._ "Death is kinder than the other possibilities," Draco said quietly. He wrapped his hands in his robes and clenched them. _So, was she already dead when the burning started?_ Draco knew better than to ask out loud.

"Dead Death Eaters are generally more convenient than live ones."

Draco closed his eyes. _I suppose they are. There's no Azkaban any more. Not that the twins are much kinder._ He let his mind wander through the possibilities of who the twins might be, given everything else. _Does it matter? They're always loyal to their family no matter what else changes, and I'm unlikely ever to see them._ "I suppose I should be glad you didn't just kill me." He thought he managed not to sound bitter.

Weasley put a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed. "It would have been a loss for us if we had."

_Yes._ Draco knew his own worth. _And I still want to live. Even with all of this, I do. Professor Snape would have killed me if I'd asked._ "It would have been easier, simpler." _Less painful._

"We're not going to let you die." Draco heard warning in Weasley's voice.

"I know." Draco's shoulders sagged. _Asking Professor Snape to let me live was my last choice. No. Now there's this with Weasley trying to seduce me. That's a choice. A real choice. Will he actually ask or just stop if I say no? But he's not stupid enough to think that I'd say no unless he says I can. It's not like I can say no to anything else that happens in here._

Weasley tugged Draco around so that they were facing each other again. "It doesn't all have to be terrible."

"Potter wants it to be."

"Harry's not here right now." Weasley trailed fingers along the side of Draco's face.

Draco met Weasley's eyes. He let exhaustion into his voice. "Just what do you want, Weasley? Tell me, and whatever it is, I'll try."

"Sometimes, it should be about what you want."

Draco laughed. He could hear the bitterness in it and wondered if Weasley heard it too. _Granger would. Weasley... I don't know._ "It hasn't been about what I want since some time during fifth year. It sure as hell isn't about what I want when you or Potter or Granger are in the room." _If you want to fuck me, you're going to have to say it. There's no way in hell I'm asking you to. Even you would know there was something wrong if I did._

Weasley nodded as if making up his mind about something. He let go of Draco's shoulder and took a step back. He looked Draco up and down. Then he smiled. Draco found nothing remotely reassuring about that smile. "Strip," Weasley said.

Draco obeyed with only a split second's hesitation. His hands trembled as he lifted his robe over his head. He kept his eyes on the floor, more because he didn't want to look at Weasley, didn't want to think about what was coming, than because he thought Weasley would care.

When he was naked, Draco looked at Weasley and said, "Where do you want me? On the bed? On the floor? Bent over the table? Some place else?" The words came out with a mixture of bitterness and resignation. _I wish they wouldn't fuck me on the bed. It makes sleeping there hard._

Weasley took one deep breath then another. After a moment he said, "On the bed, on your back."

Draco nodded once and headed for the bed. He resolutely didn't let himself look at what was coming next. _There's no point in living through it more than once._ He lay down on the bed and looked at the ceiling. _It shouldn't be so bad. He wants me to enjoy it. That means, unlike Potter, he'll be trying not to hurt me._

Weasley surprised Draco. He started by giving Draco a blow job.

_Nobody's bothered with that since-- since Hogwarts._ Draco dug his fingers into the bedding beneath him and made every effort to give Weasley the moans and whimpers he was probably after. Draco was tempted to pretend Weasley was someone else, but he thought that losing track of who he was really with might be dangerous, and he couldn't think of anybody he particularly wanted wrapping their lips around his cock.

Draco didn't expect Weasley to swallow, and he didn't. Instead, he pulled back and watched as Draco came on his own belly. Weasley wiped Draco off with a washcloth. Draco wondered if there was another one in the bathroom for when he washed after Weasley finally left. He supposed he could ask the house elves for one.

Weasley pushed Draco's legs up toward his chest, and Draco hooked his hands behind his knees to hold them in place. _I know well enough what I'm supposed to do._ He wanted to turn his head away, but he thought that Weasley might not like it, and he knew that pleasing Weasley was what mattered right now.

Weasley took his time preparing Draco, stretching him carefully and applying plenty of lube.

Draco suspected he was supposed to enjoy this part, too, but mostly he just wished Weasley would hurry up and get it over with. _I should be grateful. God knows enough people have fucked me dry, and that hurts like hell and, at best, leaves me bleeding._ Potter liked to do that. He liked to make raping Draco hurt Draco as much as possible. When he did allow lube, he made Draco apply it himself. _Which is… challenging. So it's my fault when-- When._ He tried to make himself smile at Weasley, but the most he could manage was not to start crying.

Weasley didn't look like he was enjoying the whole thing any more than Draco was.

_He'll have to do better than that if he's trying to convince me that he cares. Well, he does care, just not the way he wants me to think. How gullible does he think I am?_

Weasley fucked Draco slowly, carefully. He kept shifting position, and Draco guessed Weasley was trying to find Draco's prostate.

Draco obliged by giving a whimpering gasp when Weasley actually hit it. If he could, he always tried to give his rapists what they wanted. Sometimes, that meant less pain.

For the first time since the whole thing started, Weasley looked pleased. He moved very deliberately, stimulating that same spot over and over again.

Draco whimpered and moaned and shifted his hips, trying to give the impression that what Weasley was doing was really working for him. _And it does feel good. Better than I expected. I just-- I don't think I can do what he wants._ That thought produced panic that he had to suppress before it could show in his face.

Weasley reached between their bodies to take hold of Draco's cock. He frowned.

_Because I'm not hard, not even half hard._ Draco swallowed hard, biting back the urge to apologize abjectly. _He doesn't want me to grovel. He wants me to have_ fun. _Like that's possible._

Weasley's hand remained gentle as he stroked and pulled, coaxing Draco's cock into hardness. He continued moving in and out of Draco's ass, continued to push against Draco's prostate.

Draco didn't even have to think about suppressing his urge to shake his head in refusal, but he couldn't stop tears from starting in his eyes. He gave a strangled moan and hoped desperately that it sounded like pleasure. He closed his eyes. _Pretend he's someone else..._ But Professor Snape was the only one who came to mind. _And he always wanted to finish the business as quickly as possible. As pleasantly as possible for me but still as quickly as possible. He took no joy in it. Not that Weasley's taking any joy in it, either._

Draco focused his attention on trying to come again. He didn't think Weasley would be satisfied with anything else. _The faster the better. I want this over so that he'll go away and I can forget for a while._ He groaned and raised his hips a little so that his cock moved in Weasley's hand. _How long have I got? Weasley can't go on like this much longer. Can he? What happens if--?_

The possibilities were much simpler for something like this, so it only took Draco a split second to sort through them all. _He'll be disappointed, but he won't punish me. I can live with his disappointment if it doesn't come with a beating._ He didn't stop trying-- keeping Weasley happy was the only sensible course of action-- but he relaxed a little, no longer quite so desperate to get there. He opened his eyes.

Weasley's breath was coming faster, and it hissed through his teeth.

Draco thought Weasley was on the edge of losing control, and he wondered if he could hurry it along. _No. Better not._ He tried to make his face show pleasure, but he wasn't even sure what that should look like. _Not when what I really want is to beg him to stop. He wouldn't like that, and he wouldn't stop, so there's no point. Nobody ever listens when I beg._

Eventually, Weasley closed his eyes, threw back his head and went still. His hand squeezed Draco's cock harder than was comfortable and then abruptly released it. He groaned.

_Oh, thank god._ Draco stayed as still as possible and waiting for Weasley to look at him again. _I have to smile at him. I can do that. I can._

Weasley gave a shuddering breath then another. He looked down at Draco. "I meant to last longer. Sorry about that."

"It's all right." Draco smiled and hoped that it didn't look as false as it felt. "That was--" He let surprise into his voice. "That was... nice." He couldn't bring himself to use more enthusiastic words. _He'd like it if I did. I should._ He looked away. "Usually, nobody bothers." _No. He's not stupid enough to believe me._

Weasley touched Draco's face. "It doesn't all have to be terrible."

Draco sighed. "Yes." _Now, just pull out and go away._ He couldn't make himself meet Weasley's eyes. He touched the possibilities, wanting to see if that bright spark of hope was still there. _It's stronger. That's good. That's really good._ He cradled it close as he tried to see what he could do to make it more likely to happen.

Weasley pulled out then lay down next to Draco and took Draco in his arms.

Draco couldn't help going stiff as Weasley embraced him, but he made himself relax. _I can do anything that he wants me to. I have to._ He stretched out and turned to press his face into Weasley's chest. _If he wants to cuddle, we cuddle. It's less creepy than with Aunt Bellatrix._

Weasley sighed. He cupped one hand behind Draco's head and rubbed Draco's back with the other.

Draco pressed himself against Weasley's body. He did his best not to think at all.

After a moment, Weasley said, "I can't stay. I'm sorry about that."

_No, you're not. You don't want to be here any more than I do._ Draco made a small noise of protest and rubbed his face against Weasley's chest, ignoring the way the hair there tickled his nose.

"I'll be back tomorrow. We probably won't do this again then, but we will do it again."

_And again and again and again. When will he actually ask if I want to? Will he guess that I'm lying when I say yes?_

Weasley sat up, pulling away.

Draco pushed himself up to watch as Weasley went into the bathroom, presumably to clean himself, and then came out and got dressed. Draco tried to look like he was sorry to see Weasley go. What he wanted to do was to curl up on his bed and cry, but he knew he couldn't do that, not even once Weasley was gone. _The house elf might tell Granger, and Granger might tell Weasley. Can I hide it if I cry in the bath? I wish I had a shower. It would be easier to cry then._


	7. Narcissa Enters Play

Auguries of Innocence: Chapter 7

Draco paced. It had been a long morning, and he'd been unable to settle down to read or to play solitaire or even to nap. He'd forgotten most of what Weasley had told him, but he'd retained enough to know that something important was going to happen. Every time he looked at the possibilities, he saw that his mother was coming and all of the ways that meeting could progress.

_I wish I could be sure that she wants to see me._ He looked from the door to the table where two plates of food lay waiting. _She'll be here soon. Vesky wouldn't have brought food if she weren't coming soon._ He swallowed hard and tried to take the fact that there wasn't a plate for Granger as a good sign.

As usual, he heard them coming before he saw any sign of them. He stopped pacing and stood on the opposite side of the room from the door, waiting.

His mother came through the door first. She stumbled as if she'd missed a step.

Draco thought it had to be the wards. _Even with one of them to open the way, it's a difficult crossing._ He tried to keep his face expressionless as he looked at her. _Mother..._ He didn’t meet her eyes because he wasn’t sure if this was the might be where she was the one who had taught him Occlumency, the one where she was a Legilmens.

There were things in his head that he definitely didn’t want her to see.

His mother regained her composure and stepped to one side so that Granger could come inside without bumping into her. Draco's mother looked around the room. Draco thought she relaxed a little as she took in the details. She didn't look at him.

Granger walked into the center of the room and stood by the table with her wand drawn. She looked from Draco to his mother and back again.

None of them moved. None of them said anything.

Finally Granger spoke. "Oh, for goodness sake!" She sounded exasperated, and Draco only just stopped himself from flinching. Granger looked directly at Draco and said, "She's your _mother_. Aren't you going to hug her?"

Draco suspected that he and his mother had both been unsure whether or not they'd be allowed to touch. _There's no reason Granger has to allow it._ Draco swallowed hard and looked at the floor. When he raised his eyes, he looked directly at his mother but still didn’t quite meet her eyes. He gave just the barest hint of a nod and hoped that she'd see it.

His mother smiled. It wasn't much of a smile.

Draco wondered if maybe she wasn't even sure how to smile any more. _Or maybe... Is she as afraid of me as I am of her?_ He took a step toward her then hesitated.

His mother started walking, too. They met in the middle of the room and awkwardly wrapped their arms around each other. "I'm so sorry, Draco," his mother whispered. "So very, very sorry."

Draco wanted to squeeze her tight, but she felt fragile under his arms, so he just leaned his head against her shoulder. "Mother." Tears pricked his eyes. "It's all right," he whispered back. "I'm okay. I got through it." _I will get through it. And it_ is _better. Even with Potter--_ Possibilities stretched ahead of him, nothing very likely. He closed his eyes in an effort to stop seeing them.

Draco wasn't sure how long they would have stood there, just enjoying each other's presence, but Granger cleared her throat. _So, some affection's allowed but not too much?_ He gave his mother a final squeeze and stepped back. As he did, his mother's hands caught at him as if she wasn't willing to let him go. _She probably isn't._ He inhaled sharply.

His mother kept her eyes on him as he moved away.

He made himself smile and hoped it looked more convincing than her earlier smile. Then he turned to look at Granger. He couldn't read her expression, and that worried him. _Not knowing her mood is dangerous. No, she probably won't do anything while Mother's here. I think that's a line she won't cross. I think. I think even Potter wouldn't. Maybe._

Granger drew a second wand out of her robes and laid it on the table.

Draco recognized it instantly, and he heard his mother draw her breath in.

"It's your mother's," Granger said unnecessarily. "I thought it might be more likely to work well for you than any of the others we have."

Draco looked at Granger's face for a moment then lowered his eyes to focus on the wand. He stretched his hand toward it. He could almost see the possibilities swirling around it. _What happens if--_

He could probably hold the wand and still get the words out to release his mother from her bond to his father. Probably. If he couldn't-- or didn't-- Granger would bring his mother again and again until he finally succeeded. That appealed to him, but he could see that, if his mother visited often, she was likely to find out what Potter was doing to him. Then-- Then she might try to kill Potter. Success or failure meant disaster for her. Draco swallowed hard. Success was worse for everyone else. They still needed Potter.

Draco's fingers twitched. He could probably hold the wand long enough to disarm Granger. Maybe. And then what? He could toss the wand to his mother. She might be able to take Granger, but there was still the question of what to do after. He couldn't run, and his mother was probably better off here than living on the run with two young children.

Draco sighed and met Granger's eyes. He was almost certain that he saw her awareness of all of the thoughts that had just gone through his mind. _She knows there's no real choice._ The knowledge tasted bitter. _There's never any real choice._ "I don't know how long I'll be able to hold it," he said. _I don't know if I'll be able to speak while I'm touching it._ He shuddered. Memories of touching wands since his transformation almost overwhelmed his awareness of the possibilities. _They made sure I wouldn't-- couldn't-- forget._

Granger regarded him levelly and didn't say a word.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened his eyes, he lowered his hand and lifted the wand. As his fingers closed around it, he had to stifle a scream. Burning needles ran up his arm, piercing it in all directions. His bones felt like they were exploding, with splinters cutting as they passed. His torso felt like something inside it was trying to scour its way out. His vision narrowed until all he could see was his hand holding the wand. He tried to take a breath and almost couldn't get it past the pain.

He set his jaw and inhaled again. The pain didn't subside. His knees gave way.

As he hit the floor, he heard his mother say, "Draco!"

That drew his attention to her, gave him the focus he needed. He pointed the wand at her, opened his mouth and tried to speak. Nothing came out, so he tried again. "Resigno." His hand started to release the wand, but he forced it to clench tighter instead. "Conubium." He was barely able to remain upright. He set his teeth for a moment then spoke the final word. "Malfoy." He moved the wand in a careful little arc then dropped it, curling in on himself. He couldn't tell if the spell had worked or not. _It has to, to be worth the pain._ He was barely aware that he was sobbing, and he wished desperately that his mother wasn't seeing him like this.

Granger laid a hand on top of his head. "You did that very well, Draco."

He wished he wasn't glad of her approval.

"Please--" his mother said. "Please, Miss Granger, may I--"

Draco wondered if she even knew what words she'd wanted to come next.

Granger's hand moved from the top of Draco's head, and she bent to pick up the wand. When she straightened up, she said, "Of course," and moved away.

Draco heard his mother coming toward him. When she knelt beside him and pulled him into her arms, he turned his head to bury his face against her shoulder. She laid her head on top of his.

They stayed like that for quite some time. Then Draco's mother raised her head and said, "Miss Granger, if I-- If I want to divorce Lucius, can I?"

Draco hated hearing the pleading note in her voice, but he couldn't think of anything he could do to make it better.

"Very easily." Granger's response was dry enough that Draco guessed she found humor in the situation.

"And the children? I'd keep the children?"

"We're hardly likely to give them to _him_." Granger sighed, and when she spoke again, her voice was gentle. "The younger two are yours. Draco... Draco stays here."

Draco's mother tightened her arms around him, and he knew she was apologizing for not being able to do more. "I could-- I could be Narcissa Black again."

Draco wasn't sure if that was a statement or a question. He tried to focus on his breathing, to bring himself fully under control again. He was nearly certain that they had one of the Potters who was sentimental about his godfather’s name and family. Even if they didn’t, being Narcissa Black was never worse than being Narcissa Malfoy.

Granger might even give Narcissa Black a wand some day.

Granger left not long after that, saying that she’d return in two or three hours, and Draco and his mother moved to the table to eat.

“They’re always willing to give me more food,” Draco told his mother. He was nearly certain that that would please her.

She smiled and lifted her fork. 

There was something a little stiff about the smile, but Draco couldn’t figure out what it meant.

“I’m glad,” she said softly. “We have enough food, but I’m told that the Muggles don’t, not reliably.”

_And, if this place ever runs low, she knows she’ll starve first._ Draco considered that. He forced his spine to straighten. “None of them would starve children.” He poked at the potatoes on his plate. “Not even as they are now. They’re not who they used to be, but they’re not that.” If they were in that sort of might be, his rooms wouldn’t be nearly as nice, so he felt safe enough saying that. “Granger and Weasley both want a kinder world for the children, for all of them.”

His mother was staring at him.

He reached across the table to touch her arm. “I don’t mind looking at the possibilities for you.” _I can’t give you much, but I can give you that. It’s another way of saying ‘I love you.’_

“I missed seeing you become a man.” There was deep regret in her words.

Draco’s throat tried to close on the words, but he managed to force them out. “I’m glad you didn’t see that.” He met her eyes for a moment then looked away. “There’d have been no benefit in it for either of us. Not in any of the even remotely likely might bes. I could always see that.”

She made a choking sound, and he realized she was crying.

He couldn’t think of anything he could offer to ease that, so he focused on what he could do. “Granger actually wants any children she can get. She’d say it didn’t matter who the fathers are, but it does. Longbottom--” He stopped and swallowed hard. _She’s my mother!_ “If you can... persuade him, it will make you and my brother and sister and any children that come after safer. People always underestimate Longbottom, even now when they’ve seen what he will do.”

He fixed his eyes on his plate. “I don’t always remember who’s alive, but the Weasleys look after their own. Just-- Stay away from the twins. They look easy, and they’d protect a Weasley child, but they’re… In almost all the likely might bes, they’re dangerous to be near. The protection wouldn’t extend to you or anyone else.” _Did I warn Luna about them? I must have._ But he wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t think of a safe way to ask.

“Draco--”

“It’s a small life, but it doesn’t have to be unhappy.” He made himself smile. “You and I, we both know what’s actually valuable.” _Even with Potter, this is so much better in so many ways. Please believe me._ “The lost choices… They don’t actually matter.”

There was something else important that he needed to tell her. _What--? Oh, yes._ “Granger wants squibs, too. No one will hurt them.” He managed to focus his mind enough to put certainty into that.

He made himself start eating in order to keep himself from babbling. _There are things I shouldn’t say. There are._

She didn't say anything for a while, just pushed her food around on her plate. “I'm trying to find something to say that isn't an apology. I… should have left your father a long time ago. Before all of this.”

Draco didn't even need to look at the might have beens. “He might have let you go, but he'd have found a way to keep me. I don't see any way that could have been better. And… he'd probably have killed you.” But if his father had met an unfortunate accident-- _No. No point going there._ “There are might have beens that I can't bear to look at. Even after all of that.”

She nodded and looked as if she understood. She ate a little without saying more.

Draco made himself eat, too. He didn't want his mother to worry that he wasn't taking care of himself. He touched possibilities.

If he ate well, Granger might let his mother visit again. Granger thought Draco needed to eat more. He wondered why Granger didn't just force food on him. _I can't say no…_

But then his mother might find out about Potter. Would she be able to accept it as she had accepted… what the Dark Lord had done to him?

“Aunt Bellatrix… She used to tell me about you and my brother and sister.” He studied her face, trying to judge her reaction.

“Bella offered to kill your father. More than once. I just… There were the little ones to think of. Bella would have meant to protect us, but she'd have forgotten.”

Draco couldn't hold back a shudder. “The versions of her-- the might have beens-- Any version of her that would have remembered would have demanded a high price. She'd have been building power.”

His mother merely nodded. After a long silence, she said, “Miss Lovegood is your… friend.” She sounded as if she weren't sure that was the right word.

Draco didn't want to explain Luna, so he smiled a little. “She will help you if she can. For my sake.”

Draco’s mother looked away. “Fred and George Weasley, I think she's sleeping with both of them. She's certainly living with them.” She finally met Draco's eyes. “They look at her the way your uncle used to look at Bella.”

_As if she scares the shit out of them._ Draco blinked. That didn't fit with any likely possibilities, so he started digging through the less likely ones. _I'm forgetting something._

He could only find one set of possibilities in which the twins might fear Luna, but as he studied those, they began to proliferate and to twine around and swallow the things he had assumed were set.

“Oh.” He stared at his mother with wide eyes. He smiled. “Good for her. I'm glad Luna's found… support.” He hoped she'd understand that he was very pleased in spite of his tepid response. He closed his eyes for a moment, searching for the right path forward. 

This didn’t change anything immediate except-- He was going to need an ally. Luna would get in eventually, but by the time she did, some might bes would have become might have beens. He chewed his lip for several seconds then opened his eyes but kept them fixed on his plate. “It’s all for you, for you and my brother and sister.” He looked up, meeting his mother’s eyes and seeing that she understood that he was both telling the truth and lying.

He let his eyes move around the room, even turned his head to look at all corners. He didn’t expect to see anything, but he wanted her to understand that there was something there. “Vesky, please, I’d like some more--” His throat closed on the words as the thought of more food made him feel sick. “--potatoes.” He hoped he’d actually be able to eat them. He thought they’d be the easiest of the options.

If he ate them, Granger would certainly have his mother visit again, to make sure he kept eating.

And when the potatoes arrived, less than a minute after Draco requested them, his mother had to know, beyond all doubt, that everything they said was overheard. She was clever; they’d work out a code together. 

_Or is this one of the might bes where she’s a Legilmens? That would be easiest but only if we manage to keep it secret._ Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. He took several slow breaths then said, “Is it time for my potion?” He suspected it wasn’t, that he was only off balance because everything he’d been standing on had shifted seven paces to the left and turned silver.

“I don’t know,” his mother answered. “But House Elves are very good about remembering things like that.” She’d crumpled her napkin in one hand and was worrying at the edge with the other.

Draco nodded. “I… get confused. Professor Snape could anchor me, but he’s… gone.” His fingers gripped the edge of the table. He didn’t look down, but he was sure they’d gone white from the pressure. “No one else knows how.” He very deliberately met his mother’s eyes. He was almost certain that, right then, if she had the skill, she’d use it to touch his mind.

He wanted to smile in triumph when she did, but he kept his expression neutral as he started showing her the might bes, the shiny new things that Luna being Luna now made possible. It meant letting his mother know about the darker side of his current life, something he feared doing, but it was part of the pattern of their actually is, and if he tried to hide it now, she’d assume that it was worse than it was when she found out later.

Nothing would change quickly. Nothing would change certainly, not for Draco and his mother at any rate, but Luna-- Luna probably knew what was wrong with Potter.

And Potter might-- possibly-- be kinder to Draco if whatever was broken was fixed. Those might bes had a glow to them that Draco had never seen in likely futures before. _In a few that didn’t or couldn’t happen but not--_ His hands trembled, so he set down his fork for a moment.

His mother leaned across the table and took his hand. “Draco--” Her voice broke a little. “I don’t know how all of this works, but… I love you. Can you hold that across all of the possibilities?”

He took a deep breath in an effort to steady himself. “Mostly,” he told her. “It’s not always true, just mostly.” He looked away for a moment. “Sometimes, you love me, but seeing me hurts too much.”

“Oh.” She squeezed his hand. “Can I-- Is there any way that I can help you remember?”

“Granger gave me a book that I can write things in.” He squeezed her hand in return. “I should-- I should have thought of that before.” He pulled his hand back, stood, and went to get the book. “You can write something in it, and I’ll write something so I know it’s true.” He didn’t bother trying to let her know that other people might read what she wrote. _There aren’t any might bes where she’s that naive. Not any more._

After Granger came back and took his mother away, Draco spent a very long time looking at what she’d written, not reading it, just looking at her handwriting and occasionally touching the parchment. She’d written her love. She’d written memories of him from before Hogwarts. None of them were things that affected the possibilities, so they were all things that had been lost to him. None of them were particularly detailed, but she’d given him enough that he thought-- he was almost certain-- that he remembered.


End file.
